


Diary of a Lesbian Spider

by ImNotAMarySue (writethatdownpls)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Beau and Jester are art students, Beau starts having a crush on Yasha, Because honestly same, Confident Bisexual Jester, Disaster Lesbian Beau, Dissociation, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Get Beau A Girlfriend 2k20 squad, Molly just watches them lose their shit, NPCs Cameos, Oblivious wlws am I right, Slow Burn, Trans Male Character, Vox Machina cameos, background Shadowgast, background fjolly, frumpkin the small magical striped cat, hope you don't mind, magic is real and so is beau's anxiety, spiderbeau, tags will be updated in the future, this is spiderman but beau, trans!fjord
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 67,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21862480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writethatdownpls/pseuds/ImNotAMarySue
Summary: "B—oooooh… Spider… boo. Spiderboo. Yep, that's my name. You can call me Spidey too, that doesn’t sound very shitty—fuck, no cursing—sHIT FUCK SHIT."And that was it, apparently. That was her cool superheroine name. An attempt at being a spider. A spider-fan. Or a scary spider, apparently. Boo. What was more, a very scared spider. That one sounded about right.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett
Comments: 86
Kudos: 140





	1. Spiderboo knows her shit

**Author's Note:**

> don't ask me to explain what was going through my mind when this idea popped into my head, like, 5 months ago
> 
> Heads up, this is not betaed by someone who isn't me (and I'm sorry for that), and also English is not my mother language. I'm an English philology student though, and I promise I'm doing my very best. Like Beau. She's doing her best. Be like Beau.
> 
> Also I haven't read a Spiderman comic in my entire life. "Don't let that stop your dreams", or so my sister said (?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (More notes at the end bcs AO3 murdered my prior author notes lol)
> 
> Hi! Hello! Yes! I don't know what this is! It's not betaed (though IT IS revised, thanks Ari you're an angel) and despite the fact that English is not my mother language I am indeed an English philology student! So this should be JUST FINE! Really, I do my best to revise and correct this on my own.

"Spiderboo? Really?" Molly huffed, taking a quick look to the magazine Jester had been excitedly reading until a couple of seconds ago. "What is she, a ghost?" 

' _Well EXCUSE YOU_.'

"I think it's pretty cool!" said the blue tiefling. "It's like, bad guys don't expect her and like, she's kinda like a spider soooo it actually fits, right?" 

"I think that's a stretch. But okay, whatever."

"Yeah uh… a stretch," Beau echoed. She shook her head. _'Focus, Beau, focus and don't fuck it up again'._ "But hey, it's cool. Cool, yeah? If it's the name she has chosen, then Spiderboo it is," she hadn't sounded convinced enough, right? Ugh. "Superheroine knows her shit." 

_(UGH.)_

She had actually _improvised_ the name. What the fuck was she supposed to say? Beau hadn't thought _a name_ . Was a name really necessary, though? Couldn't she be, like, " _the cool woman that shoots spider webs and swings across the city (and sometimes crashes against windows. Just sometimes, she was working on that)?_ " 

Apparently no, she couldn't. She hadn't even finished saving the _Invulnerable Vagrant_ (a famous coffee shop located in the Pentamarket) for the third time that month (it seemed to be a hotspot for robbers, poor Pumat quadruplets) and one reporter of the local news (an excited half-elf woman named Kylith? Keyleth? Whatever) was already waiting there, mic on one hand and a rehearsed smile on her face.

_(If she had had time to actually pay attention to her, Beau would have thought she was very much pretty._

_…_

_ANYWAY.)_

_"This is your first interview with a news outlet,"_ mostly because Beau had been quick enough to swing away as soon as she saw a TV camera, " _and just after saving again our dear Invulnerable Vagrant,"_ the journalist had continued saying to the mic, " _how do you feel?"_

And then she had almost hit Beau's mouth with the device out of, very possibly, pure and bad concealed excitement. 

" _I-I really should go…_ " had answered Beau in a trembling high-pitched voice ( _"you sounded like a Tracy"_ had mocked Veth afterwards). 

Yes she had. She had sounded like a Tracy. There was no argument to refute that. Damn Veth.

_"W-wait! But before you go, can you at least tell us how should we call you?"_ had insisted the half-elf, again hitting Beau with the microphone. 

" _Ouch, B—"_ you see, Beau had one single brain-cell. They both, she and the brain-cell, had reached an agreement: the brain-cell was on vacation from Monday to Sunday. Yes, her brain-cell was very persuasive. Yes, Beau was fucking dumb. Yes, it was a shitty deal. And yes, she had been about to say her own fucking name. Beauregard Lionett, you useless bitch. _"B—oooooh… Spider… boo. Spiderboo. Yep, that's my name. You can call me Spidey too, that doesn’t sound very shitty—fuck, no cursing—sHIT FUCK SHIT."_

_(And she had absconded after that. But that clip was in every channel now. Cursing included, although censored._

_Mondays. Always Mondays.)_

And that was it, apparently. That was her cool superheroine name. An attempt at being a spider. A spider-fan. Or a scary spider, apparently. Boo. What was more, a very scared spider. 

Yeah, that one sounded about right.

_(C'mon, let a radioactive spider bite you, it should be fun!_

_It hadn't been fun.)_

That had happened the day before and practically everyone was talking about it. Everyone, everywhere. At class, at the supermarket, at the entrance of her building, at that same fucking university cafeteria. It was uncomfortable as hell, everybody and everything reminding you of your past mistakes. Even if these mistakes were from… yesterday. 

_(Now she was widely known in Zadash as the ghost spider, yay, good job Beauregard.)_

“I don’t think she knows her shit,” Molly said, and he was right. Very much right. Fuck him.

Just. Fuck him.

“We can’t know that—” Jester insisted.

“Also, she doesn’t even have a proper heroine suit!” huffed Molly, suddenly grabbing the magazine from Jester’s hands. “Who goes around wearing a hoodie and a balaclava? With goggles on top of that?” he pointed out the different clothing items as he complained. Beau shrank in her chair. She had done her best. Veth had done her best. None of her best were exactly ‘good enough’, okay, but at least she had tried. “C’mon! She needs a stylist. A very good one. She looks like Beau had dressed her up a Sunday morning while going through a hangover. No offense.”

“All taken?” that WAS offensive and, yes, her abilities at fashion weren’t good a all, but it HADN’T been like that. At all. She had been sober and had actually gone shopping. Perhaps it had been only because Veth had dragged her. Perhaps. But who cared? Apparently Molly did. Molly cared. For some reason.

_(And okay, Beau could admit that a cool heroine suit sounded super fucking nice. But she didn't have the means to get one, so, whatever.)_

“If it looks soooo heinous to you, why don’t you offer to be her stylist? Don’t you sew some of your clothes?” Jester suggested, a smile on her lips. She used that tone of voice whenever she was joking, Beau had come to realize that. 

“I totally would offer, but fuck me if I know her,” also judging by Beau’s experience, Molly had just rolled his eyes, something difficult to appreciate given the fact that his eyes were just pools of red. Kinda unsettling at first, but you got used to it surprisingly quickly. 

_‘Welp, I’m not going to fuck you, and I don’t think Jester’s interested either,”_ Beau thought. It was her turn to roll her eyes. 

“Anyway, I don’t think _Spiderboo_ needs a super cool suit. I mean, like, yeah, that would be awesome, but have you seen her? She’s our ‘friendly neighborhood heroine’, she said it! A friendly neighborhood hero doesn't need a, like, super awesome suit. She has to look… approachable, I guess," Jester shrugged. "Like your actual neighbors."

Oh, Beau had said that at some point, hadn’t she? The friendly neighbor thing. Friendly neighborhood? Whatever. Her memory got fuzzy every time a journalist had tried to talk to her. She just wanted to do her stuff without being noticed. Please.

"Well, excuse me but my neighbors don't seem approachable at all."

"That's not my fault, Molly. Neither Spiderboo's."

“In any case, I insist on the fact that she would be a better ‘friendly neighborhood heroine’ if she dressed well.”

“You don’t dress well, though,” Jester teased.

“Excuse you?” Molly took his hand to his chest, as dramatic as always, “I dress perfectly. Except when I’m wearing this ridiculous uniform _—_ that I absolutely rock, of course. Haven't you seen my last creation?”

“That tacky coat that you stole while you were drunk? The one you don’t know where you got from?”

_‘Oh, that coat,'_ Beau had seen it. It was quite difficult to ignore it, actually. 

“Hey, it’s not tacky! Well, maybe it was before I sprinkled my magic over that _diamond in the rough_ ,” Molly emphasized. Well, if he insisted… Beau wasn't so sure about the disproportionate quantity of symbols that the tiefling had embroidered in it. “Now it’s _glorious._ ”

“Ugh, you sound like that Marquesian guy from the TV...” Jester said.

“Shaun Gilmore? Well, thank you!”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“I don’t care,” Molly flashed a smile. “In any case, this Spiderboo—”

“Uuuuuh, Molly, shouldn’t you be working? I think table 2 is still waiting for their order,” Beau interrupted. 

Better not to dwell more on the Spiderboo thing. Please.

_(Please.)_

“Shit, you’re right,” Molly got up so fast he almost knocked over Beau’s coffee, but her hand reached the cup before she could process what was happening. 

Nobody thought those reflexes were weird, apparently. 

_(Those enhanced senses seemed to be a perk of being bitten by the already mentioned radioactive spider. Which was cool. Cool enough. Could have used those reflexes in the past.)_

And off was Molly. It was a mystery how they hadn’t fired him already, but Beau guessed that half of the campus had a crush on him, so ultimately the purple tiefling was good for the business. Even if he ended up sitting to chat (or flirt) with every customer he could.

_(Maybe the clientele were students without a single copper, but they always left a very good tip for Molly. The bastard knew what he was doing. The owners KNEW he knew what he was doing._

_So, they let Molly do his thing.)_

But he actually was Jester and Beau’s friend. Like, for real. He didn’t sit with them just moved by his own self-interest (hopefully). There weren’t many tieflings around, so Jester had caught his attention pretty soon. Then they had realized Molly had studied the same degree Beau and Jester were studying (arts, although Molly had deviated towards the performing arts’ branch in the end. Nowadays he just… went from crash course to the next crash course. Lately he'd been keen on taking sewing, embroidery and pattern making courses. Henceforth, the heinous coat). 

So, of course, Jester and him had clicked instantly. Half an hour later they were already telling each other their childhood stories while Beau listened in silence, mouth agape.

Molly and Beau, though… had clashed a lot with each other. It had taken a while for them to warm up to each other. Beau's baby adventures were still a secret kept far away from Molly's ears. But it was fine. Beau liked Molly. Molly liked Beau. They were bros. Pals. Mlm/Wlw solidarity, apparently. Would die for each other if asked. Would tell him about the time she ate the hair of her "favorite doll" when she was 3 years old at some point in the future. 

_(The official version was that it had been her favorite doll. But Beau didn't like the dolls her parents gifted her. That's why she ate her hair, okay? Reasonable explanation for the behavior of a 3-year-old.)_

“Have you thought of asking Yasha on a date?” asked Jester out of the blue as soon as Molly disappeared. Beau felt the heat rising to her cheeks.

"Shoosh! Don’t ask that out loud!” she took a quick look at their surroundings, but no one was really paying attention. Not when Molly was working (ACTUALLY working, taking orders and carrying trays) on the cafeteria, swinging his tail at the rhythm of the pop song that played in the background. 

Also, she also was looking around to check if said waitress was nearby, just to remember that she didn’t have shift that day.

_(Yes, maybe Beau had memorized her schedule. And yes, maybe she had started going to the university cafeteria for the woman, even if there were cheaper options just out of the campus._

_Blame her lesbian ass, only customer in that cafeteria that didn't go there exclusively to see Molly. Although Molly was a plus, yeah.)_

“Beau. No one cares. Well Molly probably WOULD care, but he's not here. And he would say the same as me. Just ask her out!"

"I’m not gonna do that.”

"Pleeeeeease?"

"No." 

"Pretty pleeeeeease?" Jester leaned forward, her long eyelashes fluttering and her tiny mouth curving into a perfectly rehearsed pout. 

It wasn’t the first time Jester asked her to ask Yasha out. Wouldn’t be the last either. Beau had come to realize that Jester was slightly obsessed with romance as a concept. It was mostly endearing, actually. She really wanted to live her own romance (“ _Like in fanfics!”_ she usually said), but whenever she wasn’t crushing on someone she focused her attention on trying to get Beau a romance story. Which also was quite endearing.

_(It hadn’t been a good idea to tell her about Yasha. But Beau had been kinda obvious since she first saw the woman. You didn’t need to be that perceptive To Realize_ )

There were limits, of course, and Beau had stopped Jester from meddling on her life a couple of times already. The tiefling had almost learned the lesson, _almost._

Still, the questions of that day were quite harmless. Probably prompted by Jester finishing yet another fanfic of her current favorite OTP.

Beau sighed. A second passed. Took a deep breath. 

She said, softly but with feeling:

"No." 

“Boring. Romance is dead,” Jester’s face fell. Not the first time Beau had heard that succession of words either. “Why not? You like her. And you are like, so pretty, and strong, although she’s stronger, but she _surely_ has to like you anyway!"

"Jester, we’ve already been through this."

“I know, I know…” she sighed. “But if you just told her, like, I mean, I read this fanfic yesterday—”

“She doesn’t even know who I am!” Beau said between her teeth.

"After more than a year? That can’t be true, Molly has mentioned you to her at some point, obviously."

“Obviously?”

“Yes! We’re Molly’s friends, Yasha is Molly’s friend. He _probably_ has mentioned us at some point,” she made a pause, waiting for a reaction on Beau’s part. “Us both,” she insisted, Beau just stared at her blankly. “That includes you, just in case you don’t know.”

"I—prefer not to think that THAT has happened,” Beau shook her head, just to let it bang against the table a second later. “Oh my god…" her words were muffled.

She _really_ didn’t want to think about that possibility. 

Molly was nosy as hell, and had a very big mouth. Bigger than Jester’s. If Beau showed Molly her baby photos he would totally announce how cute Beau looked while eating dirt on Twitter. Without any kind of context, obviously.

_(Then Jester would answer “Wow, I didn’t know she had that kink” even though she surely knew what Molly was talking about. Jester had already seen some of her baby pictures. Just some of them. The biggest part of them were still at her parents’ house back in Kamordah_.

_Thankfully. Just. Thankfully.)_

“Well, whatever you say. You don’t have anything to lose, though...” Jester said with a pout. She was kinda cute when she did that, but Jester was overall… cute. That was the first word that came to Beau’s mind when she thought of Jester, despite everything.

Beau had been new in Zadash. Jester had been new too. Both were eighteen, both were alone in Zadash, and both were fine arts students at the university.

_(Beau shouldn’t have been a fine arts student, but that's a story for another day.)_

Jester had approached Beau the first day and she hadn’t moved from her side ever since, and a year and a half had gone by. Beau didn’t even remember what they had been talking about that first day. But they had clicked, somehow. And that was all. Jester had introduced herself into her life as smoothly as she threw dirty jokes at any given opportunity.

And honestly? Jester could have had anyone as a best friend. Her bubbly personality acted like a magnet, she attracted everyone around her, and no one could actually hate her. Absolutely no one. And yet, she had stuck with the strange girl who always wore the same stained hoodies and that was known in the campus for literally punching a TERF’s nose during her first week at college (Beau was fucking proud of that. She still received pats on the back from people she didn’t even know).

They were pretty different, Beau and Jester. But it was okay. Maybe that was the base of their friendship.

And yes, Jester was cute, but she was also witty, brave, very creative and the first person Beau had met who could survive three days only eating pastries without getting sick. She also had the humor of a literal 5-year-old, but that was more than okay. Charming.

And that was her best friend. Yep.

“Do you have torture time this afternoon?” Jester asked then. Beau thanked the change of topic.

“Yeah, Dairon is beating the shit out of me lately,” Beau said. That was a half-lie. Dairon had been beating the shit out of her lately, and on a normal basis during the last 8 months.

But she wasn’t going to Dairon’s that afternoon, as she hadn't been going at all that week. She had barely set a foot in that class for 2 whole months.

Dairon was going to be so pissed at her. She was already pissed at Beau. Beau knew that. The elf was terrifying. And Beau wasn’t as fearless as everyone thought she was.

_(A very scared spider, remember?_ )

"Sucks. Guess I'll ask Molly if he's free, I'm craving some bubble tea."

"Nothing would make me happier than drinking bubble tea with you this afternoon, Jester, but I'm busy," the voice of the tiefling came from behind Beau. Turn around and yep, there he was, leaning forward into the chair at Beau’s right, the one he had been occupying not so long ago, "Yasha is moving out and I'm helping her."

"Yasha is moving out? Really?" asked the other tiefling. Beau kept her mouth shut. Better not to say anything when Yasha was being mentioned in the conversation. Just in case. Just. In. Case.

"Yep, you know how she is. She's getting a place of her own, at least for a couple of months. Needs space," Molly shrugged, but his voice denoted how much he cared about Yasha. 

Apart from being Molly’s friend, Yasha was also the tiefling’s flatmate. Furthermore, she had been the one that got Molly the job at the cafeteria, or so he had told Beau and Jester. Once Molly finished his degree he didn’t really have anything to do (an artist? Having work nowadays? Sadly, even more difficult than it sounds) so Yasha talked about him to her boss ( _“She calls him The Storm Lord, with capital letters. Apparently is a term of endearment. I don’t fully get it, but okay. The man’s fine, though,”_ had said Molly) and before he knew he was signing a contract for a part-time job for 3 months.

Aaaand, the rest was history. The customers had liked him so much that he was still there, flirting and taking orders.

"Has something happened?" Jester sounded worried. 

"Oh, no, not at all,” Molly tried to play it down, “she just needs to be alone once in a while, really. It's okay. Also, we'll still live pretty close so I'll be there is she needs me. Anyway, Beau, can't you hang out with Jester? I didn’t catch that part of the convo."

"Dairon," Beau deadpanned.

"Oh, right. Dairon," Molly echoed in the same tone.

“And what about after finishing your training? I can go pick you up and that stuff… It’s not a big deal,” Jester suggested.

“Uuuh… can’t do that either, I’m already hanging out with Fjord,” actually Beau hadn’t seen Fjord in weeks. The poor guy was probably worried about her. Fuck. And he would be having trouble around the gym, that too.

_(You couldn’t leave him alone, he was prone to start panicking even though he didn’t show it. Hopefully he had found another gym buddy those weeks. Hopefully._

_Beau didn’t have much faith in him but there’s no charge for dreaming.)_

The little hope that had appeared on Jester’s face disappeared, and her entire expression fell. She muttered something along the lines of _“who’s that Fjord anyway”_ , but Beau didn’t hear it completely.

Beau felt bad, really. She felt horrible. She wanted to hang out with Jester. They hadn’t been meeting up that much since Beau— since that spider— yeah. It was obvious that Jester was feeling lonely. Very lonely, in fact, despite seeing each other 5 times a week for class.

Ugh.

Beau let out a groan, “I guess… I can’t go to get bubble tea with you, but what do you say about going to the Leaky Tap for dinner? My treat.”

“Are you serious?” Jester’s eyes were shining again, and Beau thought he had just listened to Molly gasp. She didn’t understand why, though, “that would be _so cool_ of you, Beau. Like, I know you’re the best but after this, you would be _the bestest._ ”

“It’s nothing, really,” Beau scratched the back of her neck, absentmindedly. It actually was _something_. She was short on money already. But it was worth it if she made Jester smile. Always worth it. “8:30 is okay for you? I’ll meet you there,” she said while seeing how Molly left by the corner of her eye.

Well, at least he was working for once. 

“It’s perfect! Thank you Beau because, like, I know you’re super busy, and I miss hanging out with you.”

“Yeah, Jester. I miss it too,” a tiny smile crossed Beau’s face. Yeah, that was right. It was worth it. And she missed her too.

Beau looked distractedly out the window and saw some of her classmates running past, carrying their art supplies on their back and rattling carriers.

Oh.

Oh shit.

“Jester, what time is it?”

“Have you forgotten your watch AGAIN?”

“I actually broke it,” Beau had crashed into a fountain three days ago, and said watch wasn’t waterproof, something she wasn’t aware of but that made a lot of sense. 

She had been lucky enough to have forgotten her phone at home.

_(“Your mind is… terrible. And that’s a lot coming from me,” had said Caleb in his thick accent while he handed Beau her phone. Caleb was Beau’s flatmate. Strange guy. “Look twice before leaving the bathroom, bitte. This is the fifth time this month. Also, why are you wet?”_

_“It’s raining outside.”_

_“It hasn’t been raining, not that I recall.”_

_“Not in this part of the city, duh,” Beau scoffed, and then left._

_Probably that had confused Caleb even more. But that seemed a recurrent state of the guy, being somehow confused. Or maybe it was just the effect Beau had on him. It was difficult to know, honestly.)_

“Wait, really? That sucks. Don't you have your phone?”

“Just tell me what time is it,” Beau suspected her phone was at the bathroom of her flat. Again.

Caleb was going to kill her. Well, that was if—

“Oh, fuck me,” mouthed Jester.

“We’re late for Mrs. Vysoren’s class, right?”

“Yep.”

“Again.”

“Yep.”

Beau chugged down the rest of her coffee. Jester took what was left of her slice of pie in one bite.

Their professor, Allura Vysoren wouldn’t be mad. Oh, no, she didn’t really get mad. But assistance to their Animation class was compulsory, and Jester and Beau were NOT about to miss out their fifth class that semester.

  
  


\---

  
  


“Okay… okay,” Beau looked at her surroundings. She already knew the alleyway was deserted, and she knew that no one had followed her. She listened, she observed, and she knew how to go unnoticed. Beau had learnt to do that back when she still lived with her parents, but she had definitely gotten better at it since The Spider Incident.

It was the back alley behind the Law school building, between two large dumpsters. Ironic, wasn’t it? Her parents thought she was currently studying law and yet there she was, carrying a university’s borrowed tablet, plus her laptop and some of her her drawing supplies on her well-worn backpack. Thankfully she could leave the canvases and supplies on her own locker, but Beau had kinda forgotten about the fact that she had some homework for Mrs. Vysoren that she had to show her the next day. Just a practice, it wasn't that important. 

Or, it wasn't that important if you weren't Beauregard Lionett. Because Beauregard Lionett was doing kinda poorly in Animation and she needed to _at least_ try to keep up with what was being taught. She had had a whole week and she had completely forgotten to do it. So of course she had to do it that night.

That night, after being Spiderboo for a while. And after dining with Jester.

_(Who the fuck had designed their schedule? It wasn’t healthy to have 3 hours of the same subject for two days in a row…_

_Actually, the answer was one person who didn’t have to attend those classes._

_Of course it kinda Beau's fault anyway. She knew that. Ugh. She needed a bullet journal like the one Jester used. Or maybe just a fuck ton of alarms.)_

Anyway. Beau took a deep breath, checked out that she was alone one last time and proceeded to pull out Spiderboo’s “not-so-cool” heroine outfit from her backpack.

Outfit that, as Molly had helpfully pointed out, consisted on a balaclava, a pair of googles, a hoodie (that she wore on top of whatever shirt was wearing that day), and a pair of baggy trousers, all in different hues of dark blue. She would have wanted to wear gloves, but that wasn’t a possibility if she wanted to shoot the webs. Kinda annoying.

_(Fingerless gloves would have been an option if she had actually found ones. Incredibly, not a single store she had visited in those two months sold fucking fingerless gloves. She could have butchered a couple of normal gloves, and she had actually tried, but she ended up making a mess. So, no gloves for the foreseeable future.)_

Apart from all that, she had eventually drawn a spider ( _“it kinda looks like a beetle,”_ had said Veth) on the back of her hoodie with black marker. Super cool. Yeah.

_(Let her be, she was trying her best.)_

“Okay…” once she finished changing (as fast as she could, winters in Zadash were not precisely warm), Beau took again her backpack (she wasn’t making the mistake of leaving it there hidden, not with the university tablet and her laptop still inside. She was going to her apartment first to leave it, obviously).

Again, breathe.

“Up we go,” and she was practically flying between the buildings.

You see, as Beau dashed from building to building there was one single word in her mind which repeated itself without a pause.

_‘CoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolCOOLcoolcoolcoolCOOLCOOLCOOL.’_

Occasionally, this string of “cools” was interrupted by a single and loud “FUCK” which Beau actually vocalized out loud. Some cars honked in response. People looked up, some pointing at her. She scared away some pigeons.

_(Do you want to know where Spiderboo is? Just follow the sound of fucks and honks. 100% reliable.)_

The good thing was that it was way easier to move around the city that way, and faster too, obviously. Once you got used to the gusts of wind and the speed everything moved around you it was kinda rad. It WAS rad. 5 minutes hadn’t gone by and she was clinging to Veth’s window, looking at the little halfling on the other side of the glass.

_(Thankfully it wasn’t a busy street. And in any case no one looked up unless someone, aka Spiderboo, screamed “FUCK”._

_She always checked anyway. Always checking, always.)_

“Hey Veth,” Beau said, opening the window. Veth almost fell from the stool, but Beau entered the kitchen and got her just in time.

“STOP DOING THAT!” the woman screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Doing what?”

“Appearing out of nowhere!” still trembling, Veth managed to recover the balance by leaning on Beau. “You can at least, I don’t know, send me a message before coming...”

“Do you want me to text you while swinging?”

“You’re the type of person that would do that. If you didn’t forget your phone at home so often,” she added a couple of seconds later.

“Fair.”

_(She really couldn’t argue that.)_

“Okay… okay,” Veth took a deep breath as she descended with a little jump, the necklace of buttons Luc had made for her clacking with the movement. She crossed her arms and looked angrily at Beau. But she wasn’t angry, not really. Beau knew that much, “I’ve tried to call you three times today! Three!”

“Yeah, uh. Left the phone in the bathroom again. Probably,” Beau shrugged.

“Knew it. See? I don’t know why I was expecting, really,” Veth sighed, her shoulders falling a little. She extended one arm, “Backpack?”

“Yep,” she gave it to Veth, whose look had already turned into a kind one. It wasn’t physically possible for her to stay mad at Beau for too long.

“Busy afternoon?”

“Depends on how many people want to make it difficult, but overall yeah.”

"Do you need me to invite you and Caleb for dinner?" 

"Actually, I'm having dinner with a friend. You can invite Caleb anyway, he might forget to eat if I'm not there."

"You don't have to tell me twice, I'll call him later,” Veth was fast to say. She had kind of adopted Caleb. Beau didn’t even try to understand _why_ . “So… a friend-friend or a friend," Veth winked as obviously as possible, " _friend_?" 

"Just a friend."

"You sure?"

"Yep."

"Aw. You need a girlfriend."

_(Again? AGAIN? Two times in a day? REALLY?_

_...Well, actually she needed a girlfriend, but_ — _)_

"We're not having this conversation _again_." 

_(But Beau did NEED a girlfriend._

_..._

_Oookay, it wasn't a necessity. Most of the time. She just wanted to hold hands with a girl and cuddle a lot. Sometimes. Just sometimes. 23 out of 24 hours a day._

_Her life was difficult, okay? The world was hard and cold. Girls were soft and warm.)_

"Okay, okay—" 

"See you later, Veth."

“Hey, I was actually thinking _—_ ” but Beau was already out of the window.

Well, Veth could tell her whatever she wanted later. At some point. Squeezed between, huh… Yeah.

_(Yeah.)_

Tomorrow, she could tell her whatever tomorrow.

For a halfling, her neighbor was pretty strange. Happily married (to a not-so-weird halfling, but still kinda weird) and with a 5 year old kid (Luc was the only sensible one of that family), living in a small apartment ( _“Why would we want more, really?”_ ) and being, essentially, an inventor. She had quitted her job at a computer factory when she had Luc ( _“I could have stayed, but honestly? Fuck them, I’m better at home”_ ) and since then she had been jumping from job to job while still doing her tinkering during her free time (and while she was on the lookout for her next job), or so she had told Beau.

Neither Veth Brenatto of her husband Yeza seemed worried about this, though. Beau had eventually discovered that Yeza was employed as head researcher in one of the most prominent laboratories in Zadash. The man was good, very good, apparently. He should be winning a good deal of money, or so Beau thought (or maybe not, you never knew those days, how much does a capable scientist earn a month?). Still, the family lived a simple life, Veth job hunted anyway whenever his last contract expired, Luc went to a school in the neighborhood and all, Beau had yet to see Yeza wearing a clean shirt.

And that same family had discovered her secret the same day as her.

Why? Because she had entered through their window in panic while they had dinner.

Huh. Funny story that one. Beau had been unable to unstick her hands and feet from the ceiling. And from the walls. And she had had the window open. Aaaand she had ended up in their living room.

Cool story. And cool people. They had promised to not say anything. Helped her get off from the ceiling. Veth had assumed the role of “mom on duty” in her life without being asked. She hadn’t even known she had 2 new students as neighbors until then, and they had been living right next door for more than a year.

_“You’re so quiet! I thought Miss Trickfoot hadn’t found any new tenants.”_

_(They were quiet because Caleb mostly communicated through notes stuck on the fridge and Beau didn’t want to bring anyone to not disturb his studying. She usually drew and painted while listening to music, but it was as easy as connect her earphones.)_

From then on she got them tuppers with food at least three times a week. Caleb had even started to look like he had some will to live. Sometimes. Just sometimes. Trying to get a Ph.D. apparently sucked the life out of you.

Swinging between the buildings was fun, by the way. Really, despite the constant _“FUCKS”_ Beau voiced out loud. It had to be fun or she wouldn’t have been able to do it for (almost) whole afternoons, every day of the week (except when it became impossible to keep avoiding Dairon or she remembered that Fjord existed).

_(Sorry Fjord, if that was actually his real name, something that Beau doubted. Who the fuck named their child Fjord?_

_‘You’re not one to talk, Beauregard,’ said her brain-cell. The brain-cell was right.)_

That afternoon she stopped a couple of times to help some grandmas cross the street (they usually gave her food, and that was her afternoon snack). She saved a little kid from being run over, and rescued a very noisy cat from the top of a tree. 

“Hey, is this cat yours?” she asked the kid who had been crying for help

“No. Now it’s yours,” and before Beau could protest, he turned around and ran away.

…

Okay…?

...

What the actual fuck.

So now Beau stood there with a cat on her arms that was actively trying to climb up to the top of her head.

So Beau spent the rest of the afternoon swinging between buildings with a dirty cat stabbing her with his tiny sharp nails and meowing like there were no tomorrow.

_(It was pretty cute, though. A cute dirty cat. She couldn’t even tell the color of its fur.)_

She could have left it in a park. She could have taken it to an animal shelter. She could have gone to the vet to find out if it was chipped. But she didn’t.

“This is yours now,” said Beau to Caleb after going through Veth’s house to grab her stuff (“ _Hey, why do you have blood on you_ — _is that a CAT?? Beauregard Lionett_ — _”)_ , already showered and having changed her clothes. It wasn’t difficult to do that when Caleb didn’t come out of his room unless it was completely necessary.

Talking about Caleb…

She dropped the still dirty cat right on top of his notes.

“Meow?” said the cat.

“ _Was?_ ” responded Caleb, clearly confused.

“Give it a name or something, I don’t care, I have work to do.”

“But—”

“Your cat now, your problem now!” And Beau escaped from his room.

That had been a good idea. Caleb could use a cat. People said that taking care of someone else helped you take care of yourself. Caleb could _definitely_ use a cat.

Yeah. Good thinking Beau. Good thinking.

_(Wait, Miss Trickfoot allowed pets on the apartment, right?)_

The Leaky Tap was not so far away. 15 minutes walking fast. And she had gotten home sooner than expected because of the cat, around 8.15. So, of course, she sat on her desk and got out her laptop and tablet to do Miss Vysoren’s homework.

Or, she tried.

“What the—” Beau flipped her backpack. But it wasn’t there. The tablet pencil was missing.

_The pencil of the tablet, PROPERTY OF THE UNIVERSITY, was missing._

“Shit, fuck, FUCK—” Beau stood up so fast she knocked back her chair. The backpack was thrown aside, the obvious hole on its bottom completely overlooked.

She grabbed her goggles and balaclava. And her phone, for once. It was worth the shot, it was worth—

“CALEB, I’M GOING OUT,” no response, not that she stopped to listen to him. She stepped out of the window while trying to remember what had exactly been the path she had taken from the university. Had it been the usual one? Had she taken a rodeo? Had she done dumb acrobatics that day?

She took a chance with the small alleys she knew she had gone through. Hopefully the pencil had fallen there. She even took a quick look in the back alley behind the Law school building, with no luck.

She didn’t give up until she revised every alleyway, every dumpster she remembered swinging through that day, and basically every day of the previous week, just in case.

_(Just in case. Fuck.)_

“Fuck!” she kicked the dumpster in front of her in a fit of rage, taking out both the balaclava and goggles at the same time. That was going to be worse than just not being able to show his work the next day. That shit was property of the university. She was going to have to replace both the tablet and the pen. With her money.

Her money was very, _very_ limited. Her parents gave her money enough to survive being a law student, _not_ an art student. She could always invent some kind of excuse, she could always lie somehow, she had been doing it since she was a child, she was a good liar, as good as any teenager with over-controlling parents.

But this had been her fault, right? She had to own her fuck-ups. She had been careless and had lost the pencil. That money had to come out of her pocket.

_(With 0 income it was going to be difficult, but she could always try to cut off her expenses to save some of the money her parents sent her monthly. Not that that actually covered her university expenses if she wanted to eat properly. Most days Jester treated her to coffee. Sometimes it was Molly._

_That was also one of the main reasons she didn’t have her own tablet and had to borrow one from the university.)_

It took her a couple of seconds to realize her phone was buzzing in her back pocket.

_(Yes, it hadn’t been a good idea to put her phone in that pocket, but she had left in a hurry. Could she have lost her phone? Yes. Had it happened? No. That would be a problem for the Beauregard Lionett of an alternate timeline.)_

_Jester ❤_

Beauuuuuuu

Are you coming?????

“Sent at… 9:13…” Beau read out loud. 

Fuck. Fuck her. Honestly. Now she was late for her dinner with Jester. Her day couldn’t be worse. Nothing could happen that would worsen her day. Absolutely nothing.

Beau had a promise to keep, though. She wasn’t going to cancel dinner with Jester (dinner that she had offered to pay for, fuck her). Beau was going to put her on her balaclava, her goggles, she was going to take a deep _deep_ breath as she was going to swing back home, grab her wallet, leave the parts of her suit she had managed to grab, and run to the Leaky Tap.

The pencil will be a problem for the Beau of tomorrow. Best to fix what she still was able to fix.

_Me_

yeah sorry

found a stray cat on my way there

went back home to feed it at least for today

_Jester ❤_

OWO

DO YOU HAVE ANY PICTURES???

_Me_

no

sorry

be there in 15

or 20

Before turning off the phone she saw that Jester had answered with a sad face and that she was writing more, but if she wanted to be on time she had to get going as soon as possible.

Balaclava on, goggles on, extended her arm—

“Beau, what the fuck?”

_‘Oh, fuck me.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Edit bcs AO3 fucking murdered my notes 3 months after having published this fic lol)
> 
> ANYWAYS, JUST TAKE THIS LIKE. JUST TAKE IT. I DON'T KNOW WHAT THIS IS BUT I had this idea like 6 months ago??? and that's it, that's the tweet. I know nothing of Spiderman outside of the Marvel movies but, as my sister says, "don't let that stop you you fucking bitch"


	2. Would you make me the happiest and most grateful flatmate in the world?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, maybe she used the word “fuck” a little too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha... what if I wrote the 2k words that are missing from my Spiderbeau fanfic the night before my last exam to post it the next day at 2am...? Haha just kidding... unless??
> 
> Again, not betaed, though kudos to Ari for reading this at fucking midnight and answering to my anxious messages telling me it's okay. Thank you Ari. You're the best.
> 
> Warning: many fucks given? It's Beau, what did you expect, honestly.

See, Beau had a curse bestowed upon her when she was born. There was no other explanation. Disaster after disaster, mess after mess and so on. It was impossible for a person to have such bad luck, to mess everything up so many times in a single day. However there she was, standing frozen in the middle of an alley with the arm stretched, about to swing, when someone had called her.

Had called her _name_ . Her actual _name._ Not Spiderboo. No. Beau. _Beau_.

She always checked if there was someone around her before putting on the balaclava. Always. 

Except that time, apparently. 

"Beau, what the fuck?" a voice had said from behind her. 

She knew that voice. She knew that fucking voice, of course she did. 

"Beau?" said the unmistakable voice of Molly, this time a little bit closer. “I saw you putting on that stupid balaclava, c’mon.”

She couldn't abscond. Fuck. That would be worse. That would be suspicious as hell. And Molly had seen her. He had just said it. She had— She—

"Who are you talking to?" said Beau in her Tracy voice, finally turning around. She tried to sound offended. _Tried_. Her voice sounded an octave higher than it’s usual Tracy voice. She was actually scared shitless. Her heart was going to come out of her chest at any moment.

_(Deception was a strong point of hers. But given the circumstance—)_

"Beauregard Lionett—" he came a little closer, and Beau could _appreciate_ his unmistakable red coat. 

_(That fucking coat—)_

"Whomst?" 

"That's— That's an old meme, you _are_ Beauregard. There’s no doubt."

"No, really, what are you talking about?" no harm in keep trying, no harm in keep trying, no harm in keep—

Molly sighed. He pulled out his mobile phone. 

"You're really making me do this," and the screen turned on, flashing in the dimly-lit area.

Beau realized too late what Molly was doing. Specifically, she realized when _Scanlan and the Shorthalts’_ last single started to blast on her back pocket. 

_(Fuck. Shit. FUCK.)_

She didn’t even remember picking that song as her ringtone. Probably it had been Jester in a moment of distraction. Still, the music was obviously blasting from the back pocket of her trousers, vibrating and everything.

"Aren't you going to pick it, Spider _beau_?" Molly's words sounded proud with a layer of astonishment, like he still couldn’t believe the situation even when it had been Molly himself who had been so sure a bunch of seconds before. 

And he was making sure to pronounce her name. Not Spiderboo. Spider _beau_. Spider. Beau. Ugh.

_(Actually she liked that name better, not that it had been an option in the first place._

_Broke: SpiderBOO._

_Woke: SpiderBEAU.)_

Five seconds passed. Beau didn't move. Molly let out another sigh and ended the call, the sound that came from Beau's back pocket ceasing immediately. A satisfied smile appeared on Molly’s lips.

Blank. Just blank. Beau’s brain was dead. Her only brain-cell decided at that same moment that they weren’t up for the task anymore. Beau was too much of a dumbass for them. ‘ _I’m not dealing with this, with holidays or without them,_ ’ and they were gone. G o n e.

"We—" Beau managed to start saying, but she paused immediately. She was going to combust right there. She was pretty sure there was smoke coming out of her ears. She was making an effort there. Really. An effort. Just to avoid the upcoming breakdown.

_(Focus. F O C U S. She had to meet Jester asap. Right. Jester. Jester was waiting. She wasn't going to fuck that up too._

_Not In This Timeline, Nope.)_

"I— need to go. Don't tell anyone. We'll talk. Tomorrow," and she didn't wait for a response. Web out, and she was swinging faster than ever. 

She almost collided with a couple of lampposts in her way home. Not because she went fast, no, that wasn't the main reason for once. It was— ugh. 

Fuck Molly. Or better, fuck herself. Fucking stupid. Dumb. What did her enhanced senses matter if she wasn't going to use them? If she wasn't going to pay attention to the most obvious, flamboyant and flashy tiefling in Zadash and probably in Wildemount? 

_(UGH.)_

Anyway, Jester. Yes. Jester was the most important thing right then. She was waiting for Beau. Beau wasn't about to disappoint her. 

_(Beau was already a disappointment to herself (at least for that horrible day) AND to her parents, and she wasn't keen on lengthening that list._

_Well, maybe she was also a disappointment to Dairon, but who cared about Dairon.)_

She exited her room at full speed just to (finally) collide with something. 

Or someone. 

"Ah, you're back, I didn't hear you," said Caleb, his voice… his voice was kinda softer than usual. 

"Ah… yeah. But I'm going out again. Grabbing dinner with Jes," it took her a couple of seconds to react. He deserved to know that at least.

"Oh, really? Veth knocked some minutes ago and gave me a tupper full of stew. I don't think I'll be able to finish it on my own, and I'm not sure about cats being able to eat that, so I was thinking of waiting for you."

"What do you mean by—ah," it only took Beau to lower her eyes to see that Caleb was holding a slightly wet stripped cat. 

A couple of seconds passed before she realized that _that_ was the cat she had rescued that same afternoon. But waaaay cleaner. And strangely calm for a cat that had probably just gone through a shower. 

_(Terrible For The Poor Animal But Strictly Necessary, Given Its Previous State.)_

The cat was quietly gripping Caleb's chest, who held it against himself. Beau noted how part of Caleb's robes were damp, and his hands were full of scratches. He even had one little scratch on his cheek, disappearing into the classic stubble that Caleb usually exhibited (as he forgot to shave off regularly). 

"Rough start?" asked Beau. 

"We're friends now," declared Caleb. Just like that.

_(Good answer.)_

"Meow," said the cat, as if agreeing with Caleb. 

_(Had It Really Been A Good Decision To Give The Cat To Caleb? Discover It Soon! Only In Beau And Caleb's Student Flat!)_

"Great. Nice. I'm glad. And I'm also going. Bye," she turned around and made her way to the door. 

" _Tschüss_ . Have fun," said Caleb. The cat let out another tiny _“meow”._

But as Beau was about to open the door she remembered _something._

  
  


\---

  
  


"Awwww, so cute," Jester brought Beau's phone closer to her nose. As if it hadn't been close before… 

"It's just a cat— And my flatmate. My flatmate and the cat, not that my flatmate… Yeah."

_'My flatmate, who can also be described as a cat, honestly,'_ Beau completed internally. That was the flat truth. She was now living with two cats, apparently. For the foreseeable future, at least. Foreseeable future that included the next morning. And that was it. Just the next morning.

"A VERY cute cat. Can't believe you just found it on your way home! Are you sure it is a stray?" 

"I don't know. I guess Caleb will take it to the vet tomo—" 

"Does it have a name?" interrupted Jester, her eyes still fixed on the screen. 

She had stopped eating her food to stare indefinitely at the picture Beau had remembered to take just before going out the door. Said picture was focused on the stripped cat, but Caleb's torso and lower half of his face appeared by extension (and you could see his shy smile. Caleb _actually_ smiling, caught on camera. Unprecedented, right? Beau had decided to _treasure_ that photo. Just for science. The future generations would study such paranormal event for hundreds of years, and no one would be able to find an explanation). 

"Not that I know," Beau answered. Was it possible for Caleb to already have given the cat a name? Yes. Absolutely. Even if it was unclear if they were going to keep it. Caleb was already thinking of giving stew to the animal, which meant that the cat was already part of the non-existent family that was that flat. Did Beau know said hypothetical name? Nope. 

_(Well, Beau and Caleb were KINDA like a family, after all. They didn’t talk that much, they saw each other once in a blue moon, argued often about the rent (and they solved whatever the problem was quite quickly, yes) and mostly communicated through post-it notes on the fridge._

_Sounded like a family to Beau.)_

"Let me know if you name it," Jester finally returned the phone to its owner, "I'll have to judge if it's a good name, obviously."

"Obviously," Beau agreed without giving it too much thought. Jester was like that. And if she didn’t agree with whatever name had given to the cat, well. Caleb wasn’t going to care. He could perfectly name the cat “Little Shit”, and Jester—

Wait, Jester would maybe agree on that name. Huh.

“...for tomorrow?”

“Huh? Wait, repeat, please,” asked Beau.

“I was asking if you have done the animation practice for tomorrow,” Jester repeated.

_(Haha, you see_ — _)_

“Haha, you see… It’s funny. I haven’t been able to. But it’s okay, no worries, I’ll do it at some point,” Beau tried to smile, but it came out strained. She knew it and she wasn’t even looking at herself in a mirror.

“Why is it funny, though? I thought you were worried about the subject. Worried like,” and then, Jester deepened her voice, clearly trying to imitate Beau, “” _oh, no, FUCK, I don’t know how to make this FUCKING ball look like it’s FUCKING bouncing, and you all know how to animate FUCKING aarakocras already, I can’t FUCKING fail this subject or my parents will realize"_ , you know? Although we don’t know how to do that yet, aarakocras are _super_ difficult.”

“Yeah, Jester. I know,” _‘fuck, do I sound like THAT?’_ “Don’t worry, I’ll pass the subject… somehow,” Beau tried to sound confident, something quite difficult after the day she had had.

“I’m happy to know you’re confident, Beau, but has something happened? Really. Just tell me!” 

You see, Beau told Jester everything. Everything EXCEPT the fact that she was Spiderboo. 

...And also every little thing that Jester could relate to money.

Jester was a very good person, and a very good friend. And also quite wealthy. Beau was also quite rich herself, or actually her family was quite rich. Jester’s mom, though, was on the next level. Jester bragged about her a lot, she loved to do so, of how her mom was the great Ruby of the Sea, the best singer that had come out of the Menagerie Coast. She was a whole celebrity. She singed, modeled, and also had started to star on films recently. And she was _good_ . Like, _very good_. 

Jester's father, though? A mystery. That was the main reason most people didn't know Marianne Lavorre had a daughter. Or why some people didn't believe Jester when she said who was her mom. The Ruby of the Sea had the reputation of leading a very private life, and Jester usually said it was because of her. 

_(And that was it. But it was the truth.)_

And there was an obvious difference between Jester and Beau. Jester could ask her mother for money, and her mother had no problems in giving whatever quantity was to her daughter. She was that kind of rich girl, yeah. And Beau… Beau was a “bad daughter” who “was studying law” and her parents had decided to give her just enough money to get by “so she wouldn’t spend her allowance partying”.

She hadn’t stepped into a party since she got to Zadash. Unless you counted Molly’s birthday party, which had been quite a ride.

_(She loved Molly, but that had been TOO MUCH._

_Oh, wait, no, she didn’t love Molly, fuck Molly.)_

The thing was, Jester had this reflex of paying for everything, alternatively the reflex of “throwing her entire purse to your face if you happened to suggest that you were short on money”. And yes, Beau was thankful for that, but she didn't want to… to _take advantage_ of Jester, even if she herself was the one offering. It just felt bad, even if Jester was only paying for a cup of coffee. 

She wasn't mentioning the tablet. Not a chance. Beau wasn't going to make HER fuck up a problem for Jester. It had already taken too much time to convince Jester not to buy Beau her own tablet. Knowing Jester this time she would offer to buy a new tablet for the university AND a tablet for Beau. Again. 

"Nothing, really! I just haven't had the time. You know, Dairon. When I get home I'm too tired to do shit," Beau shrugged. "I'll try to do it after this. If I can't, well… Can't blame myself."

_(Yes, she could and had to blame herself.)_

"Don't exhaust yourself, alright?" Jester said, looking clearly concerned. She extended her hand, waiting for Beau to grab it. 

Beau felt kinda bad lying to her, but she would feel worse if Jester payed for her fuck ups. 

"I won't, I promise," and Beau tried to smile again, while finally intertwining their fingers together, not quite grabbing her hand just… Yeah. She must have made a good attempt at smiling, because Jester looked satisfied at that. 

Beau had said the truth, though. She was still planning on trying to do the practice that night _if_ , after swinging again through all the back alleys of the city, she found the fucking pen.

Was it a suicide mission? Kinda. Worth trying? Always. 

Oh, she was going to be so exhausted the next day. That promise had been a lie, yep. 

_(Maybe she'd just… Not be Spiderboo that day. She could go to the gym, even if she didn't work out in the end. Just to say hi to Fjord. The guy was there everyday._

_Good thing the university gym was free for students. She would have quitted long ago if it weren't.)_

But seeing that satisfaction on Jester's face? The one that appeared when she tried to help you and seemed like she had succeeded (even if Beau did whatever the hell she wanted later while feeling bad for doing so)? Priceless. She tried so hard, Jester. She was so nice. 

She really was so fucking nice. 

"Oh, girls, you're here!" Aaaand Beau almost fell off of her chair. 

_(No, no, no, no.)_

"Hey, Molly!" Jester waved at the other tiefling. "No, we're not here. We're ghosts, obviously."

_(No, no, no, NO.)_

" _Ghosts,_ you say?" And finally Molly appeared in Beau's visual field. 

He was looking _directly_ at her. 

"Hey, Molly," Beau choked out. There was no way the smile she was exhibiting was convincing. No way.

"Hello, _Beau._ Jester told me you were running late, is that true?" 

"Molly! You came here to make sure I wasn't alone?" 

"Well, yes! I thought it wouldn't hurt to come to check on you. I had already finished helping Yasha, so I said, why not?" Molly shrugged, his eyes still fixed on Beau. But Jester was still so surprised that she didn’t even notice that.

"Awwww you're so nice! Sit with us, c'mon, grab a chair, don't just stand there! But I told you, Beau was on her way already, it really wasn't necessary…" 

"Oh, right. You told me."

Still looking at Beau. Beau gulped down.

"It's just that she found a stray cat! So she had to go back to her apartment. Show him the photos, Beau. You'll see, it's so so SO cute…"

Beau had just been looking straight (huh, straight) at a point behind Jester. There was a firlbolg family dining, a mother, a father, and their child. It was weird to see firbolgs in Zadash, or in a city in general, apparently, although Beau already knew one. They looked happy. Like they were actually having fun in a place like the Leaky Tap, without the eyes of a fucking purple tiefling looking intensely at them.

Oh, right. That was Beau. That purple tiefling was looking at Beau. Beau wasn't having fun. She had been having fun. Not anymore. Dealing with Molly was going to be a problem for tomorrow-Beau. Today-Beau was just tired and starting to dissociate. 

"Beau?" Jester called her, sounding kinda worried. "Beauuuuu," she snapped her fingers in front on her face, Beau finally looked at her. "Oh, you're alive. You seem distracted, is everything okay?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, everything is okay," she finally said. "Photos of the cat, you say?" Said Beau as she pulled out her phone. 

"YesyesYES," Jester seemed to be overly excited by the prospect of showing cat photos to Molly. Which okay, was cute, very Jester. But still kinda surprising in its own way. 

"Ladies and gentlemen: The Cat," said Beau, turning around the device so the tieflings could see the photo. 

Jester cooed once more and Molly looked attentively for 5 seconds, finally pulling his gaze away from Beau. Just. Five seconds. Then he pulled out his own phone, spent a minute looking up something (while Jester talked and talked about cats and how she wanted one, or a dog, or a freaking weasel, she would call it Sprinkle, and the dog could be called Nugget, she had wanted a dog as a child but her mom didn’t let her as neither of them spent too much time at home anyways).

And then Beau's phone buzzed in her hand. 

Jester protested as Beau quickly checked out her phone (" _Beauuuu, I think Molly hasn't seen the cat well yet,_ ") just to find that Molly had sent her a picture. 

A screenshot, actually. 

_"SPIDERBOO SPOTTED SWINGING AROUND THE CITY WITH A CAT_

_by Keyleth Vessar"_

Followed by a very zoomed picture of her sitting on top of a building with said cat trying to reach the top of her head. 

A message from Molly popped up. 

_mollyfuck_

just letting you know

don't think anyone on your immediate circle will make the association tho

it doesn’t even look like the same cat

Beau looked up from her phone just to find Molly staring back at her. 

Okay. 

_(The cat wasn't recognizable there, not at all. Molly was right. Beau herself had thought it when she had seen it after the very-much-needed shower. But it was… good to know._

_Yeah, good to know that there was an article going around about her swinging around the city with a cat. Spiderboo, the cat savior.)_

“Are you plotting something?" Jester said to Molly. "You look like you're plotting something."

"What is that supposed to mean?" 

"I don't know. You tell me," Jester opened her eyes as if they were windows and managed not to blink for 30 whole seconds while leaning towards Molly little by little. 

"No, literally I don't… Okay," giving up, Molly raised his hands. Jester finally blinked. 

"So?" 

"I'm plotting…" he looked around and leaned forward, making gestures to the both of them to do the same. "I'm plotting to get you two to think I'm actually plotting something."

"Aw, Molly!" Jester straightened up immediately, a pout on her mouth. 

"What? I'm serious, I'm plotting exactly that," Molly laughed and, okay, Beau also laughed a little. Molly looked at her briefly, and then turned again towards Jester, "now, if you excuse me, and seeing that you have good company and that you haven't touched your food since I got here, I'm leaving."

"Noooo, staaaay," Jester said with the pout still on her lips, just as Molly stood up.

"I refuse to interrupt your… lovely evening for one more second, though," laughed Molly. And then added, looking at Beau, "see you tomorrow?" 

"Yessss," answered Jester as Beau nodded. That seemed to satisfy Molly. 

...

Well, it hadn't been THAT bad. Molly did seem to have good intentions. Still, Beau, wasn't at all sure if Molly had decided to make an appearance on the Leaky Tap BECAUSE he had discovered her secret or REGARDLESS he had discovered her secret. Was he being a little dick (though not so much in the end) or was he being a genuine good friend to Jester? 

Huh.

Something told Beau she'd never know. 

  
  


_\---_

  
  


Beau had had good intentions when she had invited Jester to dinner. Really. She had intended to actually pay. 

The thing was, she had forgotten her wallet at home, so in the end it had been Jester's treat.

_"Don't worry, I was planning on paying my part anyway. And being able to hang out with you outside the campus is more than enough!"_ had said the blue tiefling. 

Well, Beau felt like shit anyways. There was that. 

She basically kicked the front door to close it, only to find Caleb in the lit kitchen, and the cat on top of the counter. 

_(Beau had the momentarily impression that Caleb was quite astonished. By what? Beau didn't know._

_Anyway.)_

"Still friends?" she asked out loud, Caleb gave a little jump. 

"Ah! Ehm… us? We're flatmates, Beaure—" 

"No. You and the cat."

"Ah. His name is Frumpkin. And yes. Why?"

Beau had called it. Beau has fucking called it. 

_(She had to tell Jester about the cat's name asap.)_

"You were looking at it—him like you had seen a ghost, dude."

"Did I?" 

"Did you?" 

"I don't know?" 

"Okay, forget it," Beau sighed as she started to make way to her room.

"But—" 

"No, no, it's cool, it's cool,” she stopped her tracks, though, still visible from Caleb’s perspective. “Really. Your ghosts, your problems. Don’t tell me anything."

"There are… there are no ghosts, Beauregard. And this has turned into a stupid conversation just now," Caleb sighed and took the cat into his arms. 

And the cat did not resist _at all._

_(Those two had something special.)_

"Whatever you say, Caleb. Gonna sleep. See you tomorrow," she turned around and was again about to go when Caleb talked again. 

"Isn't it too soon for you to go to sleep?" 

_(Isn't it tii siin fir yii ti gi ti sliip?)_

"...Since _when_ do you know when I usually go to sleep?" Beau asked slowly.

"Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night because… uh… I'm thirsty."

"For love and support?" Beau blurted out.

"No, I usually just want water. _Was…_?" 

"Forget it."

"...Okay, yes, that will be better," a frown of confusion had appeared on Caleb's face. Hilarious. Totally worth it. "But anyway, have sweet dreams if you're really going to sleep now. I'll be playing with Frumpkin for a while, he seems to like these… ah—videos I found on MyTube, he gets his paws all over the rPad. It's pretty cute."

Wait a second. 

_(Wait a McFucking second.)_

"Wait. Waitwaitwait—rPad?" Beau leaned forward, leaning on the door frame.

GRIPPING that fucking door frame.

" _Ja_?"

"Do you have a fucking _rPad_?" 

" _Ich— ja_ , it's comfortable. To take notes and… stuff, while doing research."

"Since _when_?" 

_(Beau’s spirit was about to come out of her mouth, like what happened to those characters from animation series.)_

She sounded dumb. She was dumb. She surely looked dumb at that point. 

"Since I— ah… since I moved in with you? I mean, I had it before moving in."

"Caleb," Beau's voice broke, closing the distance between them, staggering a little.

"Is there something wrong?" 

"Caleb Whateverisyourmiddlename Widogast," she didn't think, she just knelt down in front of her flatmate. 

"Beauregard, why are you kneeling?" 

"Would you make me the happiest and most grateful flatmate in the world—" 

"Oh."

"—and make me the favor—" 

"Oh, _nein_."

_(Oh, yes.)_

"—of lending me your rPad just for tonight and possibly tomorrow morning so I can show my work to my-very-cool-yet-strict-teacher Miss Allura Vysoren?" She rushed the last words out. 

There was a pause. Both Caleb and the cat looked straight at her. 

_(The fucking cat even seemed to be enjoying the show. Enjoying it! What the fuck._

_What the fuck.)_

"I… _was?_ Weren't you going to sleep?" 

"Forget that."

_(She wasn't going to sleep that night, now for different reasons. Fuck the pen from the university tablet.)_

"O… Okay?" 

"Is that a yes?" 

"Well—" 

"Say yes to your best flatmate, dude."

"But—"

"C'mon, dude, my knee is starting to hurt," it wasn’t starting to hurt, actually. Beau was so used to fall during her training sessions at the Cobalt Soul that the feeling was meaningless. 

"I mean—" 

"Dude! Do it for your dearest flatmate!" 

"You're my only flatmate," mumbled Caleb high enough for Beau te hear. 

"Which makes me the best, am I right?" 

_(Boom, logic. Beau surprised herself sometimes. Her brain cell clapped in her honor, impressed._

_But just once. The brain cell gave one single clap. Deserved.)_

"I—" Caleb stopped. He blinked, "I guess you're right."

_(And so, Beau didn't sleep that night._

_And also spent money on buying Precreate, the app she needed. Well, a gift for Caleb he wasn't going to use. Ever. Not when all his work revolved around… around..._

_What was his PhD thesis about again?)_

  
  


_\---_

_Me_

so

the cat has a name

_Jester ❤_

owo?? 

okay wait why are you awake at 3am??

_Me_

why are YOU awake at 3am jessie??

_Jester ❤_

fair

coming back to where i left it 

oWO??? 

_Me_

yeah uh

the name’s frumpkin

or something similar idk maybe it has a weird zemnian spelling

great or meh?

_Jester ❤_

it's 

so

CUUUUUUUTE _❤❤❤_

_Me_

really?

_Jester ❤_

of course "really" 

_Me_

oh okay

i'll tell caleb

_Jester ❤_

he was expecting my approval right?

_Me_

of course

he'll be able to sleep tonight

probably

thanks to you

_Jester ❤_

yissssss

now fr beau go to sleep

chop chop

_Me_

i'm ON IT

_Jester ❤_

LEAVE YOUR PHONE

_Me_

leave YOUR phone???

_Jester ❤_

okay fair again

❤❤❤❤❤ sweet dreams!!!!!!! ❤❤❤❤❤

\---

  
  


The next morning, Caleb would find a note on the kitchen counter:

_"jester approves the name of the cat. is it burpkin or frownking?"_

Caleb would sigh and would totally write in red sharpie:

" _FRUMPKIN, Beauregard. FRUMPKIN._ " 

  
  


\---

  
  


"Wow, you look like death," said Jester as soon as Beau took the free seat at her left. 

"It's a new look. I'm trying to start a trend."

"This is a campus. ‘Tired after an all-nighter’ is already a trend."

"...Fair point."

"Maybe if you insist you can convince everyone of the fact that you totally started that trend."

"Hm…"

"Like, you have that tired look on yourself… absolutely unique. One of a kind. Stunning. Can't believe I'd never thought about tying up my hair as if I hadn't seen a mirror in my life," Jester feigned awe, playfully.

"Aw, stop, you're making me blush," Beau lifted a hand to her brow, rapidly fluttering her eyelashes.

"All according to my plan!" Jester smiled, continuing the joke.

"Your evil plan?" 

"No, my not-so-evil plan."

"Oooh, right. That one."

Beau didn't fucking know what they were talking about. Probably neither did Jester. But it was okay, they did that type of thing all the time. People usually gave them weird looks, but that was, as Jester said, “according to her plan”.

"Hey, is that an rPad?" Suddenly asked Jester.

"Yep."

"Yours?" 

"Nope."

"You stole it?!" 

"No!” Jester had said that outloud. Half of the class had turned around to look at them. THAT wasn’t according to their plan. Whatever the plan was. “Fucking gods, no. This is from my flatmate."

"Oooh. Didn't know Caleb had enough money to buy one of these." 

"I don't think he has. He probably stole it."

"Totally,” Jester agreed totally. “So, what about—?”

"Beauregard Lionett?” Allura Vysoren said out loud as soon as she stepped into the classroom. “Has Beauregard Lionett come today?" 

Wait, what the fuck—

"I'M HERE—ouch,” Beau almost knocked the table over by standing up too fast.

It wasn’t… usual for Miss Vysoren to call her name. At all. And so early in the morning. What had she done now?

_(“I don’t know what we have done but I’m already disappointed in you,” said the braincell. “Because this? Whatever it is? It’s not my fault.”_

_Huh, okay? The ship is sinking and you leave Beau alone, way to go, braincell!)_

"Be careful with the furniture, Miss Lionett, if you please. Someone left this bag hanging from the knob of my office this morning,” Miss Vysoren announced as she left said bag on top of Beau’s table after having crossed the room in just a few steps, her blue dress flowing like there was a fucking fan in front of her. What the fuck. “It contains a box… addressed to you. Do you know something about this?" 

"I don't, Miss Vysoren."

And that was the truth. What the fuck. Who would left that on Allura Vysoren’s doorknob. What the fuck? Were they trying to get Beau to die out of shame in front of the whole class? 

"Are you sure about that?" The woman arched an eyebrow.

"Yup! Like, 100%. A-as sure as I can be. Yep. Yepyepyep. Cool. And, er— thank you, Miss Vysoren. For bringing it to me. Whatever it is.”

“I expect that this doesn’t happen again. I have better things to do than to play being a carrier pigeon. I hope you understand that.”

“Of course. O-of course, I will— tell the person who left this, if I get to know who it is to— to not do that again. Sure.”

_(WHAT THE FUCK?)_

As Allura Vysoren walked away to start her class, Beau turned to look at Jester, who clearly articulated “WHAT THE FUCK?” without actually saying anything.

Beau looked inside the bag.

A box. A simple box, really. With a sticker on it. On the sticker it was clearly written _“To Miss Beauregard Lionett”_ with elegant calligraphy.

Beau took out the box. 

“Open it! Open it!” Jester screamed quietly. Beau could see how some of her classmates were also trying to take a peek to whatever was inside the little package.

Beau, however, had a small gut feeling which told her to wait for the end of the class to open it. She had had a lot of those gut feelings recently. They were usually right. 

And so, she put away the box in her backpack, to everyone’s disappointment.

She didn’t open it until she was alone in a bathroom stall after 2 hours, Jester waiting for her just at the other side of the door.

“C’mon, we’re not gonna be able to see Molly at all if you don’t come out soon!”

“I’m on it!” said Beau, who was just there, sitting, the little box on her hands. She didn’t even have to go to the bathroom in the first place.

“Have you thought about eating more fruit? It has _a lot_ of fiber, you know? And there’s also this iogurts on the TV that—”

“ _JESTER._ ”

“Okay, okay, I’ll wait outside!” The tiefling finally accepted. A few seconds later, Beau heard how the main door closed.

Okay. Cool.

Finally, Beau opened the box.

…

Aaaand she didn’t expect to find the fucking tablet pencil on the inside. THE tablet pencil. The one from the university. It had its little label and all.

What. The heck.

_(Yes, maybe she used the word “fuck” a little too much. Jester had been right on her imitation. A “heck” once in a while was well-received.)_

After being completely dumbfounded for ten whole seconds, Beau realized there was something else on the bottom on the package.

It was a note. A handwritten note.

_“Dear Beauregard Lionett,_

_Try to be more careful with your stuff. You should buy a new backpack, I can recommend you a few brands which have a good quality-price ratio. Although it is pretty easy to lose stuff when you are focused on more important stuff, like not falling to the ground, I can guess._

_Be glad I was the one who found it._

_Sincerly,_

_a good friend._

_PS; for now, I think anonymity is a good friend for the both of us. Just know that I have no bad intentions. Please, keep working hard.”_

Followed by the small doodle of a spider. 

Well. Heck indeed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, my exams are over though I'm starting classes again in 5 days. Yay, no vacation for me. Excuse me while I lock myself up in my room to play Breath of the Wild and watch The Untamed for those 5 days.  
> (And yes, occasionally I'll write.)
> 
> I need a break, honestly. Beau needs one too. And girl, she isn't gonna get one, I'm gonna make sure of that.
> 
> Feel free to leave kudos or comments if you're feeling generous. You can also get mad at me at my twitter (same handle as here, ImNotAMarySue) for writing this amount of bullshit and make you read it. I will 100% understand it.


	3. That's how friendship works, right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beau didn’t exactly know if she should consider Fjord a friend. A buddy? Yes. A gym buddy? Definitely. But a friend? They hadn’t shared their past traumas, not yet at least. So… not exactly a friend.
> 
> (That’s how friendship works, right?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY PALS, GALS AND NON-BINARY FRIENDS. I'M BACK. SOMEHOW.
> 
> I wrote the majority of this in a sugar rush, I think. But I think is quite good. I WANT to think this is quite good.
> 
> Again, not betaed, though kudos to Ari (@_ARIenigena) for reading this at fucking 1AM. Thanks for the feedback sweetie you're the absolute best I luv u.

"Beau, darling, where do you think you're going?"

Beau stopped in her tracks. She had tried, really. She had meant to avoid Molly. Yes. And yes, she had promised to give him an explanation _today_ , but currently Beau was in no position to start explaining shit, oh, no. 

Not after _that_.

_“For now, I think anonymity is a good friend for the both of us…”_

UGH.

_(Wow, she had been discovered 2 times in less than 24 hours? Amazing. Still not a record. The record had been set on her very first day. 3 people at the same time when she had accidentally entered the Brenatto’s apartment.)_

"...I have class,” Beau sighed, turning around and yeah, partially blocking the door to the cafeteria. Molly was just there, in his everyday clothes as apparently he had asked for a free day that same morning. And his bosses had ACTUALLY given it to him. Amazing what you can achieve when you’re that pretty, right? But he still had come to the cafeteria to wait for Beau and Jester. And Beau. And also Beau. Had Beau mentioned Molly had been specifically waiting for her? “Mr Clay—" 

"I'm pretty sure Mr Clay won't be upset if you miss _one_ class,” Molly cut her short, crossing his arms.

Well, he was right on that. Mr Clay was just… chill. The most chill professor in Beau’s entire degree, if her seniors didn’t lie. He taught Drawing processes, techniques and materials. Or, you know, just Drawing, for shorts. He was known for taking the class outside the classroom every day to draw whatever the hell he thought it was best that day around the campus. He even organized trips on the weekends to the countryside or to other parts of Zadash just… to draw. Those counted as extra assignments, thankfully.

"Beauuuuu are you coming or what?” Jester called out from the outside.

"Beauregard Lionett, you know what you owe me,” Molly said from the inside.

"..."

She owed Molly, damn. She actually owed Mollymauk fucking Tealeaf. Beau knew very well that the tiefling wasn't going to… to do anything rash with the info he had even if she decided to go to class, but— But yeah. 

Yeah, going to class, for once, would be being a dick. 

"Beau!" Jester called her again. 

"Oh, fuck— Sorry, Jessie! Caleb just— err— burned down the kitchen!"

Improvisation, what a marvelous thing. 

"WHAT?!" 

"Yeah, I know!" Beau tried to sound between annoyed and panicked. She succeeded. She kinda felt panicked anyway due to certain note. "He just messaged me, I have to go back to my apartment to deal with Miss Trickfoot."

"I'm going with you!" 

"No! No, no—" Beau raised her hands, indicating the blue tiefling who was already making her way towards her to stop. What a scene to make in the door of the cafeteria. There were too many eyes on them. Too many. "I mean, no. Don't worry," Jester finally stopped in her tracks. "I prefer to deal with this myself. Plus, you need to… to take notes for me, right? And tell me what do we have to do for homework, so I don't have to ask in the class' TalksApp group."

"Ugh," Jester made a face. Beau had hit in the nail with the class' TalksApp group. "Like, feel you. Good point. BUT, like, if you need my help…"

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry Jes. I'll message you," Beau tried to shush her away as she pulled out her phone. 

"Okay, okay, okay! I'll see you tomorrow then!" 

"See you, Jes!" Beau said distractedly as she finally went out of the cafeteria. 

She opened Molly's chat. 

_Me_

gonna take a walk

to make it look like im actually going home

be back in 5

_mollyfuck_

you better 

waiting for you in the backroom

already told gustav to let you in

And yes, Beau actually took a walk. Dragging her trolley behind her and all. Helped her to think. Think a little bit. For once. Not the trolley, walking, that’s what helped her, obviously. She hadn't been alone since she had read the note an hour before in the bathroom stall. _If_ you could consider that "being alone", sure. 

Who the fuck had written that note? That was the question. The only question ever. Molly was completely discarded. He couldn't be, it was _pointless._ Now, that said, it could have been _anyone_ on the entire campus. And that, in all honesty, complicated everything unnecessarily. 

_(Fuck, why her? WHY BEAU?)_

Beau was not exactly "unknown" around the university, even out of her degree. People didn't necessarily know her name, but they recognized her. 

_(It all had started with that punch. Still no regrets, Punch A TERF Today.)_

But because of that it would have been quite easy for everyone to get her name, and her degree (as if she didn't carry around all her painting suppliers in a fucking trolley every fucking day), and even her schedule. They could have known she had class with Miss Vysoren that day. The buildings opened quite early in the morning, anyone could have entered the Fine Arts building. 

Literally. Anyone. 

Still, Beau wanted to think it was a person of her own degree. Yes, anyone could have gotten that info about her, but surely that would have taken… a while. But if the mysterious person were to be in the same degree as her, well. The level of difficulty would have gone down. The person would had been able to get every info they needed in the less-than-24 hours period following Beau losing the tablet pen.

_(Gosh, she really needed those 5 minutes._

_...Unless… Unless they had known she was Spiderboo waaaay before that day._

_Fuck, Beau, stop thinking, please.)_

That was all Beau could try to guess, really. The practically non-existent hints ended there. 

_(Whyyyyyy. WHYYYYYYYY.)_

It wasn’t worth it. Really. If what the mysterious person (Beau was going to call them _“dearest friend”_ ) said in the note was true, she shouldn’t be worrying. Key word: shouldn’t. They had told her they had no ill intentions, and gave her some… encouragement? 

_(Also told her to buy a new backpack, which certainly would be a nice investment. Maybe Beau could even ask her parents for money for that if she sent enough pictures of the state of her current one.)_

Anyway, sure enough, 5 minutes later she was back in the cafeteria. As soon as Gustav, the owner, saw her, he gestured her to the back room. 

Where Molly was waiting. 

Okay. 

Beau gulped down before opening the door, hand resting on the handle. She knew Molly wasn't going to be a dick about _it_ . Or, well, he would be a dick to a certain extent. Just typical Molly. And yet, Beau could only be _afraid_. 

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. That would be Molly, probably. So, she thought _‘fuck it’_ and opened the damn door.

There was Molly, phone in hand, sitting under the white lights on top of a bunch of plastic boxes. He had that damn jacket _on_. Ugh. And he looked up as soon as Beau closed the door behind her.

“Oh, _finally_ ,” he said. “I’ve just sent you a message.”

“Yeah. I guessed,” Beau let herself fall against the door, arms crossed. It was a good way to keep it closed, and also thanks to her enhanced senses she would be able to hear if anyone was approaching the room.

_(To accidentally (or not so accidentally) spy on them. Apparently you were never too cautious.)_

“So, _Spierbeau…_ ” again with that name, Molly crossed his legs, “how come you can… you are like this? Like, no offense,” the tiefling seemed to lose all the coolness and smoothness that he had been able to maintain for five whole seconds. Amazing, “but _what the hell_. You? Shoot? Cobwebs? Out of your fucking hands!” Molly was definitely going to hit something with all those hand gestures.

“I know. Trust me _I’m aware_.”

“And you— you can climb fucking buildings like _it’s nothing,_ ” Molly raked a hand through his hair, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. “It’s nuts.”

“Don’t you say?” Beau sighed. 

“But _how_?” He leaned forward on his improvised seat.

“I got bitten by a spider,” Beau simply said. 

There was a beat of silence in the cramped room, the noise of the cafeteria filtering from the other side of the door.

“Ah, good one. No, but seriously, how?”

“It’s the truth,” Beau insisted. 

“Wait _what._ ”

“A… radioactive spider or some shit bite me. I don’t know,” and it was the truth. Why would she lie about that at that point? “I was in my room and it just… happened. I threw it away by shaking my hand, so I don’t know, maybe it’s still in my room? If it hasn’t died after only smelling turpentine for two whole months? Wait, can spiders smell?”

“I don’t think that’s relevant here—”

“No, right. Right. You’re right,” Beau shook her head. She was getting off track. “So, yeah. Since then I’ve just, like. Done those cool things you mentioned,” she shifted a little against the door. “If you consider them cool, sure.”

“It’s cool. It’s actually very cool,” Molly smiled big. Beau blinked twice. So, was that Molly’s actual opinion on Spiderboo, or was it his new opinion now that he knew that Spiderboo was actually Spider _beau_ ? “Well, everything is cool except _those clothes_.”

Ah, there it was.

“Uh, sorry for being a student with no resources to spare to get a cool suit?” Beau said, giving him a shrug.

“Oh, but you have resources.”

“If you’re talking about my parents’ money you know they aren’t giving me a copper to spend on something that isn’t completely justified by my supposed de—”

“I meant _me_ , Beauregard. I’m your resource,” Molly deadpanned.

…

Oh.

“Oh. Wait. Waitwaitwait,” Beau started to massage the bridge of her nose. “You’re. Are you. Uhm.”

“Offering to tailor you a suit? You bet I am. I’m not leaving you to walk around in _that_ for one second longer. My friend has to look _good_ while saving Zadash,” Molly snorted.

“But— dude. My— my dude, that’s too much,” Beau’s arms fell limp to her sides, her mouth agape. Was he serious? “I can’t—”

_(Was he going yo have an actual COOL suit? For real? But the money_ — _)_

“Of course! But I expect you to pay me in exchange. _Not in coin_ ,” Mollymauk clarified as Beau opened her mouth to talk. “I know we both are pretty much broke.”

“Then how?” Beau asked, although she already knew the answer.

_(It was Molly, of course she knew the answer.)_

“Favors, of course. Let’s say, you don’t meet a superheroine every day,” Molly smiled. Beau rolled her eyes.

As if “superheroines” really existed. Beau wasn’t one. Nope. She was a university student with quite bad luck, and one who happened to be able to shoot webs.

Superheroines were just present in comics and books, and TV shows, and some films too. You could consider the characters of the legends from all around Exandria as superheroes, if you were reaching. 

_(They surely sounded like superheroes. But those were just legends.)_

“Sure,” Beau snorted. “Favors. Great.”

“Oh, don’t be so cold. I’ll just ask for something once in a while. But you can always say no if you don’t want to do something specific. I’m not _that bad_ ,” Molly’s brows knitted, and Beau rolled her eyes again.

“Anyway, thank you for offering. For the. Uh. Suit,” Beau shook her head. Right. Yeah. “Do you need my measurements?”

“Actually, yes,” next thing Beau knew, Molly was standing in front of her with a measuring tape. “I want to have this done asap, as you surely understand. When I said that I couldn’t let my friend swing around the city wearing such a _hideous_ ... outfit, I was also trying to make you understand that _I’m prohibiting you from being Spiderbeau for the foreseeable future_. Until I’ve finished your suit.”

“Molly! You can’t do that! I _can’t_ —” Beau complained, leaving her mouth open. That was too much!

“Oh, but you _can_ ,” Molly got her right arm and forced her to extend it, carrying her behind. _‘Bye, door, my back was finally getting quite comfortable against you’_ . “And if I catch you working these days, _I’m burning that fucking hoodie.”_

“But—”

“Don’t give me that look,” he extended the measuring tape. “You’ve been neglecting like, _everything else_ , for two whole months, am I right?”

Well, he _was_ right, but Beau wasn’t going to tell him. She kinda missed Fjord. And she _kinda_ missed Darion too. But oh, well. Not that Molly was waiting for an answer, as he continued talking right away:

“Yeah, I thought _so_ ,” he pulled out his phone and took some notes, “let me take some notes on your hand, yes, right,” as he said those words he grabbed Beau’s hand and proceeded to take some more notes helped by the tape. “I’m using elastic fabric, but just in case… Or maybe I could… Hmm…” he stopped in the middle of typing. “You know what? I have a better idea about your hands —which are very nice, though a little bit dry. You should try to use some lotion.”

“I still need to get into those… _hideous_ clothes today, though,” Beau said as Molly moved on to measure her shoulders. It was a little bit uncomfortable, being moved like a mannequin. 

_(But she actually wanted that suit. Damnit.)_

And no, she wasn’t commenting on the subject of her hands.

“Why, though?”

“Because I have no money and I need to get back home somehow,” Beau explained.

“...Well, fair,” Molly paused for a moment. “But tomorrow I’m taking a look inside your backpack and if those clothes are still there I swear—”

“Okay, okay, I got you. They won’t be there,” Beau interrupted.

Molly made an amused sound. Beau sighed. That was her life now, apparently. 

Well, at least being one week on forced vacation didn’t actually sound that bad.

  
  


\---

  
  


“Beau!” Fjord almost dropped the dumbbell he had been holding as he saw Beau appear.

As she didn’t have to do anything that afternoon (as Molly had not-so-kindly remembered her that same morning when he kicked her out of the backroom after taking _too many_ measurements. Just, _too many_ ) Beau had decided to swing by the university gym to see if Fjord was around there.

But of course he was there. Beau had only seen him once outside the gym. He had been alone in the city aquarium. No idea what the fuck had he been doing there. The half-orc disappeared from her field of vision before Beau could approach him, and also she couldn’t even try to look for him because Jester was basically dragging her around excitedly as if Beau was just an extension of the blue tiefling’s arm.

She only remembered the event a couple of weeks after that, and by then Beau judged it would have been too awkward to ask about it. So, she let it slide. Fjord could go to the aquarium every time he wanted if that made him happy.

Err… what made Fjord happy, again?

Fuck, she didn’t even know Fjord’s degree. But that was cool. Probably.

Yeah, probably.

_(Was he even a student? He had to be a student, right?)_

“Dude, be careful with those,” Beau told him. “You can hurt yourself pretty badly.”

“I know,” Fjord looked away uncomfortably. 

Beau didn’t need to ask about that. Fjord had ABSOLUTELY hurt himself with a dumbbell at some point of his life, probably before meeting Beau.

“How you doing, _Captain_ ?” That was an inside joke between them, Beau calling him captain. Fjord didn’t seem uncomfortable with the nickname, or at least _tolerated_ it.

That joke had just… started at some point. Probably Beau had unconsciously created it after seeing Fjord at the aquarium.

“Pretty good, actually,” Fjord said, sounding indeed quite proud. And Beau identified that he sounded proud because, once again, he had forgotten to make that _terrible_ fake accent with which he usually spoke. Beau preferred his actual voice, and she had told him, but Fjord had just brushed it off as if he didn’t know what she was talking about.

_(He was pretty terrible at faking. She knew that much._

_She also wondered a lot if Fjord was his real name. It sounded more like a nickname, like in Beau's case.)_

“You doing your push-ups?” Beau asked.

“I am,” Fjord assured.

“And your sit-ups?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Fjord nodded.

To anyone hearing, it sounded like Beau was Fjord’s personal trainer. And she kinda was. For free. 

_(She had to start convincing Fjord to at least bring her some food in exchange. Just. Something.)_

Beau had found Fjord for the first time around a year before in that same gym as he tried to exercise on the stationary bicycle. His cheeks had been of a deep green color, he was actively struggling and panting _and sweating a fuck ton_ , and taking a quick look at his timer would tell anyone that he had been on that bicycle for less than 5 minutes.

A complete disaster. Beau had ignored him at first, had gone to exercise on her own. Her surprise had been capital when that half-orc had approached her and, obviously gulping down his pride and looking quite similar to a scared deer, had asked her for help on how to use the same machine she was using right then.

It had somehow snowballed from there. Beau had started giving him tips, then she had started to take a look at his registers and timings at Fjord’s petition, and at some point she had begun to give certain tasks to him.

And Fjord had improved a lot since then. _A fucking lot. He was…_ quite _ripped now._

_(Still kinda clumsy.)_

“What’s been of your life, Beau?” Fjord asked as Beau herself grabbed one dumbbell.

“Oh, you know. Artsy stuff,” which was what Beau always answered. But Fjord always seemed satisfied with those five words.

_(They really didn’t talk that much outside the exercise topic, really._

_But it was quite nice. Just Beau, her exercise buddy Fjord, and the gym. After the day (and the two months) she had had, it was well-received. Beau’s single brain-cell could take an actual rest while she was on the gym.)_

“Oh, but you haven’t been around for a while. Has something happened?” aaaand to Beau’s surprise, Fjord asked further. For once.

_For once._

_(She couldn’t have one chill day, could she? A moment of respite, that was all she was asking for.)_

“Err… I don’t know, man. Life has been complicated lately,” Beau managed to say. Well, she wasn’t _lying_.

“How come?”

Damn, Fjord was _REALLY_ asking that day, wasn’t he?

“You know I train on the Cobalt Soul, right?” Beau said, and she saw how Fjord nodded. “Well, that’s it. My teacher at the archive has been regularly kicking my ass.”

_‘Just blame Dairon’_ was Beau’s life motto at that point.

“I’ve always wondered why is the building called an ‘archive’ if you practice martial arts there,” Fjord hummed.

“Fuck me if I know,” no, really, Beau didn’t fucking know. She had asked Dairon once, and Dairon had looked at her like she was a piece of trash. So, like, regular Dairon.

Beau hadn’t asked since then.

“It’s not like you _study_ or _research_ there,” Fjord mumbled. Then he added in a louder tone, “by the way, have you been seeing stuff about this _‘Spiderboo’_ heroine?”

Now it was Beau’s turn to ALMOST drop her dumbbell.

_Almost._

“Is something wrong?” Fjord asked, sounding clearly concerned.

“Yeah, yeah, just,” just then, her phone started vibrating intermittently in her pocket.

_(At least this time she had turned off the volume.)_

“—My phone,” Beau ended up saying, pulling out said device with her free hand. In the cracked screen it was written with white, bright letters, ‘MOLLYFUCK’.

“Who’s that—” Fjord started, peeking on the screen from Beau’s side.

“What _the hell_ you want, Molly?” Beau said as soon as the mobile was close to her ear.

“ _Where are you? Are you, like, swinging or something?_ ” the only sound at the other end of the line was Molly’s clear voice.

“No. I’m at the gym _with a friend_ ,” Beau didn’t exactly know if she should consider Fjord a _friend_. A buddy? Yes. A gym buddy? Definitely. But a friend? They hadn’t shared their past traumas, not yet at least. So… not exactly a friend.

_(That’s how friendship works, right?)_

But it was better to tell that to Molly. It was better to think about Fjord as a friend at times, because if she thought of him as a buddy, Beau had to remember herself the slight difference between a buddy and a friend. She knew exactly where the difference lied, and it was in oversharing, but she was always aware that it wasn’t like that for the rest of the world, and that’s what made her think on the difference every time she called Fjord “buddy”.

Anyways. Fjord the gym buddy.

_(Fjord the gjym bjuddy?)_

“ _Oh, so a friend?_ ” Molly said with a… weird tone. Beau felt her skin crawl. “ _Well, I have some questions for you. They are all yes or no questions, so if it’s a yes you say “aha” and if it’s a no you can just grunt._ ”

“Dude. What the hell,” Beau said.

“ _I’m guessing that your friend isn’t going to hear us, given the amount of noise I’m hearing at the other end of the line_ ,” Molly said. He was kinda right. Beau was probably just managing to hear his words due to her powers, “ _but still, I guess it’s better if you make yourself difficult to understand._ ”

Molly was just laughing at her at that point. That little shit.

“Sure,” Beau accepted reluctantly. Who cared anymore at that point? Beau didn’t.

_(Yes, she did.)_

“ _So. Looking at what you’ve been wearing until now, should I go for blue hues?”_ Molly started asking.

“Aha,” Beau lifted the dumbbell once and gave Fjord a quick look. The half-orc had resumed his training, but was actually looking at her, and he wasn’t very subtle about it.

But yeah, blue was good. Blue was _nice_. It was a color that had always suited Beau. If she had to “save Zadash”, as Molly had said, better to look her best while doing so.

“ _Cool. Seeing your movements on the videos, I can guess that you prefer to be wearing something comfortable so you can kick the shit out of people,”_ Molly went on, and then waited for Beau to confirm.

“Aha,” Beau confirmed once again. Molly wasn’t lying there. She had been throwing punches and kicking the shit out or petty criminals who didn’t cooperate since she had started… doing her thing. When she wasn’t shooting webs, that is. Some criminals resisted more than others and yeah, sometimes a couple of kicks were needed here and there. Physical fights also had helped her to keep her fitness as she had been neglecting going to both the university gym and The Cobalt Soul archive. 

_“Got it, baggy pants are good.”_

“AHA,” Beau confirmed too enthusiastically. Molly laughed at the other end of the line.

“ _Okay, okay. I’ll try to make it both fashionable and functional,”_ Molly confirmed. “ _What about a sash?_ ” 

Beau took a moment to answer that.

“...Aha?”

“This is turning weird,” he heard Fjord mumbling. Beau lifted her dumbbell again.

“ _A LONG sash?”_ Molly kept asking.

Another moment before answering to that. Thinking about it, _actually visualizing it_ , a long sash would look _SO COOL_ while fighting and swinging, but it could also be impractical if she was to, like, trying to spy on someone sticking to the ceiling? Like, the sash could fall and give her position away if she didn’t attached it to herself. To her leg or something, right? Using a web? Or a safety pin? Should she start carrying safety pins everywhere she went?

…

...But it would look _so good._

“Aha,” the confirmation escaped Beau’s lips before she could give it more thought.

_(“You’re going to regret that,” said her brain-cell while putting on sunscreen, “but I’m not gonna tell you what you should do, duh”._

_Right, gym time, vacation time.)_

And also, she didn’t want to grunt just like that, out of the blue. In the middle of the gym. And like, you could hear guys grunting in every corner of the gym but. Beau was just lifting a dumbbell as she talked through her phone.

_“I absolutely_ love _we’re agreeing on this,”_ Mollymauk emphasized the word “love”.

“Aha,” what else was she supposed to say?

Oh, right.

“Is that everything you wanted?” Beau added then.

“ _I mean. If you’re saying that because you don’t want to make more choices, you could give me some artistic license…”_

“Sure. Go ahead. Go crazy. You have free will,” Beau blurted out.

_(She was gonna regret that. She was gonna regret that SO BADLY. Just look at Molly’s terrible jacket. Beau was screwed._

_...But she was also not the most indicated person to talk about “style” or “fashion”, soooo if anything went wrong she could always blame Molly.)_

_“Oh, Beauregard. I absolutely adore you.”_

“Just shut up. But thank you. But shut up,” Beau groaned.

_“I know you love me too.”_

“Molly—”

_“Yes? C’mon, say it.”_

Beau sighed. That… fucker.

“Yes, I do,” Beau groaned once again.

“ _You do what?”_

_(UGH)_

Beau dropped the dumbbell in the bench in front of her. She wasn’t lifting anymore, anyway.

“Yes, I love you, you terrible being,” Beau deadpanned. Fjord almost choked.

_“Aw, Beau, I’m going to blush.”_

“No, you’re not.”

_“No, I’m not, you’re right,”_ Molly laughed. Okay, yeah, the tiefling was quite endearing in his own particular way. _“Anygays, my dear friend. I’ll call you in a week.”_

“Wait, so so—” Beau started saying, but with a cheerful _“bye!”_ Molly had already hung up.

_(So soon? Just one week? Just what kind of monster was Mollymauk Tealeaf?)_

_‘Damn, I hope he doesn’t overworks himself,’_ was Beau’s first thought.

_(Maybe Molly was just too eager for this… “new project”? Still, she had to tell him something about it. Probably the next day, though. He would have shift on the cafeteria, so it was the perfect time to_ —

_Oh, right, Jester. Jester was going to be there._

_Well, Beau would send him a message later then.)_

“Is everything alright with your… uh… friend?” Fjord asked, still recovering from fucking choking on his own spit, apparently.

“Peachy,” Beau deadpanned, staring into a fixed point at the other end of the gym. There was a girl there, tanned skin and white-blonde hair, who seemed to almost glow. She was lifting what Beau could guess to be too many weight, and she had an impressed crowd around her. Wow. Beau would have transformed into a useless lesbian right then and there if she wasn’t so utterly shocked by the recent developments of her recent life. “No, but really, it’s fine. He’s just… a little weird sometimes,” she completed.

“Good kind of weird?”

“I… think so…?” That was a VERY good question, Mr. Fjord.

“Reassuring, indeed,” Fjord let out a little chuckle.

“Very reassuring indeed,” Beau accepted.

“What were we talking about?” Fjord asked.

“I don’t know, you tell me,” it took Beau 3 seconds to say that.

In those 3 seconds she remembered the topic that Fjord had just brought up.

_(“You’re just stupid. Plainly stupid,” now it was the turn of her brain-cell to deadpan.)_

“Oh, right, I was asking you if you had seen the news about this Spiderboo heroine,” Fjord asked. 

Beau wanted to smash her head against the dumbbell, although judging her luck she was probably capable of breaking the dumbbell instead of her head.

“Yeah. I mean, my friend Jester keeps talking about her,” Beau cleared her throat and looked away. “She says she’s… super cool, and that stuff.”

“Oh, right, you’ve mentioned Jester quite a few times,” Fjord hummed. “But aren’t you curious about Spiderboo? Like, okay, your friend is quite right there. She’s quite cool.”

“But like, curious about what?” Beau asked, ignoring the rest of Fjord’s statement.

_(Hehe. He had said Beau was quite cool. Okay, of course he didn’t know Beau was Spiderboo, but that didn’t matter!_

_Yeah, sometimes Beau liked feeling appreciated.)_

“I don’t know, about her powers, for example?” Fjord said. “That woman seems to have come out straight out of a legend, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, I guess you can say so,” Beau shrugged. “Jester is more focused on just how cool she is.”

“Well, that’s certainly valid,” Fjord shrugged. “Damn, I really would like to meet her,” he added in a quieter tone.

“W-would you?” Beau asked, her pitch going up an octave without even realizing.

_(That had kinda sounded like her Tracy voice. Fuck, shit. Fuck.)_

“Yeah, I mean,” but Fjord didn’t even seem to notice it. The Scared Spider Lives To See The Light Yet Another Day, Somehow, “you said it. Well, your friend said it. She’s cool. And she kicks ass. She could help us a lot with our exercises, don’t you think?”

Beau didn’t remember how much time she spent staring into the void before answering with a short “yeah” to Fjord. But given the look the half-orc had given her, it had been quite more time than the reasonably expected.

  
  


\---

  
  


Beau had had… quite a ride, those two days. Indeed. Yeah. There wasn’t a better way to put it, really. Just. A Ride™.

But right then and there, seating on the roof of the most expensive hotel in Zadash, the Pillow Trove, and watching how the entire city was alive even at night, all the tiny lights, the hundreds of people traversing the city as if they were ants, the sound of the voices, some laughs, the occasional music of a car blasting through its open windows…

Beau didn’t know. It was just… kinda relaxing. It sounded crazy, but yeah, it _was_ relaxing. She liked to do that, once per week at least. Just sit there, watching, feeling big and small at the same time. At least it took her mind off for a while.

_(Also, it was quite convenient to be in such a tall building, seeing everything. Once she had witnessed a robbery from up there thanks to her surprisingly amazing sight, and had just leaped and swung in a matter of seconds, arriving just in time to stop it.)_

She would be able to do that again in a week, if Molly was totally being serious. “ _Dead Serious”,_ that had been his message when Beau had reached out to him, worried about the tiefling overworking himself. He assured Beau that he wasn’t overworking himself and that he really wanted to do it. That he _could_ and _would_ do it.

Beau couldn’t do anything to change his mind. That was just Molly. When he set himself up to something, that was it. Quite a lot like Jester, actually.

She really had to go and befriend the most stubborn tieflings in Zadash. Deadass.

_(But, they were HER most stubborn tieflings in Zadash. Still deadass.)_

It was a good night, that one. Still a little bit cold, but it was good. It was nice. If you looked up, you could even see Ruidus despite the layer of pollution that covered the city.

Ugh. Not so romantic if you thought about it.

“Okay, that was a killer,” Beau sighed out loud. Time to go back home, she guessed. 

She stood up and shook off the dust of her clothes as best as she could and, after cracking her neck, took a few steps back so she could take a little run before jumping.

What Beau didn’t expect, though, was colliding with something by doing so.

Or _someone._

The person behind Beau immediately gripped her arms, but Beau was fast to move. Fast enough, you might say, and she managed to shake the person away and turning around to face them, immediately adopting a self-defense position.

_(Fuck, she had been SO absorbed by the city that not even her cool super senses had been able to alert her that there was another person there._

_...And probably that person was extremely stealthy, too. A scary thought._

_“I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt,” said her brain-cell, quite unbothered given the fucking situation.)_

What Beau found after turning around, though, was rather surprising.

That person was covered from head to toe in black clothing. Given the color and the fact that the roof wasn’t illuminated at all, it was difficult even for Beau to make out the details of the clothes or even their frame.

_(But there was something else… something that_ really _made it difficult, but Beau couldn’t point it out…)_

And their face? A white and quite ominous mask was covering it. Quite ominous, like… like…

Fuck, Beau really couldn’t focus on their appearance, could she? A headache was starting to appear on the back of her head just from trying to focus.

It was… just… Fuck. Ugh.

The figure took those seconds of confusion to leap towards Beau and started to throw punch at her.

“What the f—” Beau didn’t finish the sentence, and instead started to block and dodge their movements, one after the other, each one fastest than the last. 

_(What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.)_

Beau tried to grip the figure’s fists, but they were stronger than expected. She tried to turn away and escape, but she was outrun by the figure. She even tried to punch it once, even when she was too confused to even register the current events, of even think of speaking and asking out loud, just asking—

_“GIVE THEM BACK,”_ the voice from the person sounded somehow distorted. Something that, if you really thought about it, was fucking strange. As it was the whole situation, actually.

But just, _just_ , if you thought hard enough about it, right?

The headache was there from just… trying to focus on that person.

_(WHAT THE FUCK, WHAT THE FUCK, WHAT THE FUCK, WHAT THE FUCK, WHAT THE FUCK.)_

“G-give back what?!” Beau’s voice came out high-pitched, and she wasn’t even trying.

_“DON’T PLAY DUMB,”_ the figure shot a punch that actually hit Beau right on the middle of the stomach. Beau was left without breath, “ _YOU AND WHOEVER IS HELPING YOU, GIVE THEM BACK.”_

_‘Fuck this, fuck this, FUCK THIS,’_ Beau’s brain was just red at that point, beeping and telling her to escape. She didn’t know what that figure wanted, it didn’t seem like they wanted to explain themselves, and she was going to get reduced to pulp if she went on like that.

She needed to fucking RUN.

Her instincts seemed to finally kick in. She moved her hand unconsciously and planted it on top of the mask as the figure was preparing another punch.

The time stopped around her as she shot a cobweb, covering the eyes of the mask.

The person behind the mask groaned and, out of instinct, took a few steps back. Beau took the chance to kick them in the chest, just to give herself a little more time.

Then, she turned around and leaped into the restless city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. You should expect me to drop some art at my account by the time I publish the next chapter. The Suit Design Is Coming. Yay?
> 
> Also yeah that ending I guess. Who knows. I absolutely know, of course. But who knows.
> 
> I spent the last month binging YET ANOTHER NOVEL (Heaven's Official Blessing, still reading it though), listening to The Magnus Archives (please listen to TMA but beware of the triggers) and playing Fire Emblem 3H while trying not to die (thanks university, you're the absolute fucking worst). Also I was sick for a while. I'm fine though, no worries.
> 
> Now, apart from the fact that Spain is slowly shutting down because of COVID-19 my city ACTUALLY had a vacation period starting next week, so who knows. I'm just gonna stay at home taking care of myself (AS YOU SHOULD) and I might write??? I might??? I don't know??? I'll probably do??? So WHO KNOWS maybe this updates sooner than expected. Maybe not. Please don't get your hopes up I'm quite a mess.
> 
> Anygays, take care of yourselves, wash your hands and drink lots of water. Don't fall into collective hysteria, just... chill. Yeah. That sounds good.


	4. That person in front of her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, Spiderboo has been oddly quiet this few days,” Jester noted.
> 
> “She might be resting."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't give me that look. I wrote this in 2 days. Hell, yesterday I wrote almost 5k words and my Instagram stories can prove it. I don't know. Quarantine, just... quarantine. Spain is on lockdown and apparently that means it's time to get your hands sore from typing on your laptop.
> 
> (Yeah, that totally happened to me.)
> 
> Again, not betaed, though kudos to Ari (@_ARIenigena) for reading this at fucking 2AM. Thanks for the feedback sweetie you're the absolute best and I luv u (and your stoopid telegram video messages. I love those too).

Just as Beau opened the front door to her apartment (after having entered through her window to change her clothes, having come out and finally having dropped on the top of the building so she could just get the elevator to her floor) she found herself face to face with _someone_ she hadn’t seen in her entire fucking life.

_(Please. Those were already too many surprises for a single day. Just please.)_

It was a tall person. Or at least taller than Beau. That was the first thing she noticed. Then it was the color of his skin, of a deep gray, almost black. _‘Oh, it’s a drow’_ Beau thought, just as she noticed his white short hair, perfectly combed, and the pair of intense blue eyes that were looking straight at her.

_(What the fuck, she hadn’t heard anything when she had been in her room. Who was that person?)_

“Oh, is this your flatmate, Mr Widogast?” Asked the drow, turning around a little bit.

Enough for Beau to see Caleb standing on the kitchen frame, slightly leaned on it.

“Ah, uhm… _ja, ja. Sie ist_ — She is Beauregard Lionett, my dear flatmate,” Caleb’s gaze went down as Frumpkin started to tangle himself between his legs, clearly demanding cuddles.

“Hey, you really don’t have to give my full name to… _who the hell are you_ ?” Beau wasn’t in the mood. Really. Her mind and her heart were still racing on top of _the pain_ . She just wanted to get to her room to _think_ and to _scream into her fucking pillow_ and to get some paracetamol and probably pass out at some point.

“This is Mr Essek Thelyss. He’s my— my PhD tutor,” Caleb completed, a layer of nervousness clear in his words.

A layer of nervousness Beau wasn’t even going to try to analyze. Whatever.

_(What the FUCK was doing Caleb’s PhD tutor on their apartment? That was a question for the Beau of tomorrow._

_Her head hurt so much, she needed to get to her room, she needed to_ — _)_

“Uh— okay. A pleasure or whatever. Now, if you excuse me,” and with that Beau managed to get past Essek and made her way straight to her room.

The room closed behind her as she pressed her back against it. Beau let herself fall to the floor slowly as she breathed. Breathed! She was quite alive, although the punch she had received on her stomach still stung.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Beau mouthed. That was the first thing that came to her lips, really. She heard the voices of that Essek guy and Caleb, still on the hallway, but she wasn’t even trying to understand what they were saying.

_(Her head was practically throbbing at that point._ )

What the hell. What the fucking hell. Just.

Beau tried to take deep breaths. One minute. Two minutes. She heard the front door close. Her head still hurt, but at least her heart had recovered its usual pace. Carefully, slowly, Beau stood up and made it to her desk. She opened the first drawer, and it took her less than a minute to find the box of pills. She swallowed one without water. Beau wasn’t about to come out of her room again. Nope. Nope that night.

It would take a while to work, but it would eventually do its job and calm the sharp pain on her head.

She dropped her backpack, changed her clothes for the second time in less than five minutes, put on her pajamas, lowered the blind (a little bit out of pure paranoia, maybe) and threw herself on her bed.

Okay. Obviously, her head still hurt, but Beau had to think. She really, REALLY needed to think.

Okay.

What the hell had been that? No-one had attacked her out of the blue until then. No-one. Or, at least, no-one while being Spiderboo. Like, yeah, some people had tried to defend themselves while she did her best to arrest them. But that was expected. But what had happened 15 minutes before? The hell? Had it been revenge? Had it? Could it be, even?

No. No, no, it couldn’t have been someone out of revenge. All of the people she had fought until then had been petty criminals, with no relation to any grand crime organizations. The police had said as much on TV, if they weren’t lying.

_(Thinking carefully, it wouldn’t have been so strange for the police to be lying, but Beauregard had to grab onto_ something _right then.)_

That… person had been quite sharp in their movements. It could have killed Beau, and she knew that. Oh, she fucking knew that. Not even Dairon had ever hit her that hard. Maybe she would have had chances in another scenario. Not at night, that was for sure, and not with a headache.

Because that was the thing, wasn’t it? That person had _actually_ given her that headache. Looking at them, trying to focus on their movements, their frame, had _created_ that headache. Out of… nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

There had been something intrinsically… weird there. In that person, in those movements, in that— in that mask.

…

It had been that mask, hadn’t been it? Somehow.

Fuck. Just fuck.

And also, there were those words.

_“GIVE THEM BACK. DON’T PLAY DUMB.”_

Well, apparently Beau was the dumbest bitch alive because fuck her if she knew what the hell was that person talking about. Give _what_ back? What had she taken? She had not a single idea.

_(No thoughts, head aching.)_

“Fuck me already,” Beau groaned, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands. 

Too much, it was too much. And even if she could think 100% straight, Beau was pretty sure that she wouldn’t be able to understand shit either.

_‘At least…’_ she began to think as finally the pain started to subside, sleep slowly embracing her, _‘I’m on vacation now…_ ’

  
  


\---

  
  


Veth’s mouth had been open during the 10 minutes it had taken Beau to tell her about Molly and what had ended up happening the night before.

_(She really felt better now, thank you.)_

“But Beau, don’t you understand?” The halfling woman said a few seconds after Beau had closed her own mouth. “That’s your nemesis! Your archenemy! The villain in your story!”

“Veth, what the hell— also, please, don’t stand up,” Beau tried to (unsuccessfully) stop her as the halfling pushed herself up so she could be standing on top of her own chair.

“You don’t understand!” Veth repeated, this time almost accusingly. She was pointing her finger at Beau, who took her own hand and placed it on top of her heart, making as if she was hurt.

“I don’t?”

“Look, Beauregard,” Veth sighed, now putting her hands on her hips, “it’s quite obvious! You’re a superheroine, and Every Superhero Ever has had an opponent.”

“For fuck’s sake, Veth, that’s just—”

“It’s verified! Just read some comics, girl.”

“I don’t think comics are a great source of info regarding this st—”

“Shoosh!” Veth interrupted her, Beau leaned against the back of her chair, shutting up. In the background, she could still hear the TV’s constant talking. The morning news was on, they were talking about an accident that had occurred a few days before in Port Damali.

Whatever, Beau didn’t really watch the news, or the TV for that matter. She just looked up “Spiderboo” on Noogle and read articles and watched the specific videos that concerned her. Just in case.

_(Maybe she should be concerned about other stuff than herself, though.)_

“What?” Beau asked.

“Wait, I’m thinking of what to say,” Veth said. Beau snorted. She couldn’t avoid doing so. “Hey, don’t laugh! I’m totally serious.”

“Yes, you are,” Beau agreed. Unfortunately, yes, Veth was being serious.

“So, yeah. That’s it. That figure is your first nemesis.”

_‘Sure,’_ Beau thought. 

_(Although perhaps, and just perhaps, that outright refusal was just a mechanism of self-defense she was using unconsciously._

_Huh._

_Could it be that—)_

“Wait, wait. You just said my _first_ nemesis? There are going to be more?!” Disbelief colored Beau’s voice. She really didn’t know if that person was her “nemesis”, but if it was just the “first”, then it could be a “second”, and a “third”. And a “tenth”.

The first one could have beaten Beau to a pulp if they had wanted to. What the hell. How was she supposed to _survive_ more than one nemesis?

“Yes! I was wondering how when they were gonna show, actually,” Veth seemed completely oblivious to Beau’s internal turmoil. “It’s been two months already.”

“I would have preferred if they hadn’t shown in 6 months. Or 2 years. Or like, ever,” Beau grumbled, crossing her arms.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Veth reprimanded her. The halfling finally sat properly again. Beau just rolled her eyes in response. “It’s necessary!”

“ _Why._ ”

“For you to grow as a character!”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Veth.”

“I’m totally serious!” Veth repeated the words she had said not even a minute before, this time with more emphasis. “Villains are supposed to make you stronger.”

“Or to beat you to a pulp,” Beau countered.

“Or both! Sometimes a good thrashing helps you to grow.”

“I would prefer to grow eating vegetables, _like everyone else_ ,” Beau added pointedly.

“Leave the vegetables for Luc, this is war!”

“It isn’t, Veth.”

“It will be!” Veth said, sounding 100% convinced. Beau wanted to scream into a pillow.

_(Veth was also being completely oblivious to the Molly part of Beau’s tale. Well, it didn’t matter.)_

“Whatever you say,” Beau forced herself to say. One couldn’t really be sure about Veth, could be? She sounded completely convinced, but was she?

Most certainly yes. But sometimes it was just easier to think the halfling was joking.

“Uhm. You sound like you think I’m not right!”

“Really? Because I totally believe you,” deadpanned Beau.

“Great!” _‘I can’t believe she actually believed that’,_ Beau thought. “Then you’ll also understand that, to defeat your nemesis, you have to get a sidekick.”

“Do I?” Beau could say she was surprised. Was she, really? We were talking about Veth. Suggesting that wasn’t surprising at that point, not coming from her. 

_(Now she was going to say she could be Beau’s sidekick.)_

“Of course! And you know who could be your sidekick? Me!” Veth announced. She didn’t even let Beau answer the question. It wasn’t meant for Beau to answer it, in the first place.

“Veth—”

“I’ve been thinking some names!” Veth pulled out her phone. Her screen was even more cracked than Beau’s, which said _a lot._ “That’s what I wanted to tell you the other day, you remember? But now that a villain has shown up it’s more important than ever for you to have some help. For now, the only that convinces me is ‘Nott, the Brave’. It sounds cool, am I right?”

“Veth—”

_(That name was flat-out confusing. But it had some kind of appeal, somehow.)_

“Of course it is!” Veth nodded to herself, too deep in her own thoughts to even pay attention to Beau. Again.

“I don’t think I’m taking a sidekick for now,” Beau blurted out.

There was a long silence.

“You aren’t?” Veth’s face fell a little.

_(Ouch.)_

“Yyyeah, no, I’m not looking for a sidekick,” Beau repeated with a sigh. “For now I want to… to, you know, see if I keep finding this, uh, ‘nemesis of mine’ around the city, right? To be sure that I can call them my nemesis,” well, that was kinda true. If it was just a ‘one time villain’, or even if you could even call them a villain, that was left to see.

Yes, they had tried to beat up Beau. Yes, Beau still didn’t know why. She was hanging onto the hope that it had been just a confusion.

_(Maybe they weren’t looking for Spiderboo. Maybe they were looking for, who knows, Batboo?_

_It was dark. They could have gotten confused. Surely.)_

“Huh. You may have a point there,” Veth’s eyes transformed into thin slits.

“Right? And also, I kinda think you and I work better just as we are now,” Beau added. “You are already my sidekick, kinda, don’t you think?”

“Well…”

“I wouldn’t have survived this long without you, Veth,” Beau assured. And it was true. Without Veth, Caleb would have discovered her a long time ago. Well, Caleb and probably the rest of their building too. 

_(It was a miracle Veth hadn’t spilled the beans already, actually. But hey, Beau wasn’t gonna complain about it._

_Maybe Yeza and Luc did the damage control. Yeah, that totally was a thing.)_

But really, Veth was a good friend. And actually helped Beau. For starters, talking to her about All The Shit™ usually gave Beau a new perspective, even if Veth’s ideas seemed absurd at the beginning (and at the end). Talking things was good, and until then Beau only could talk with Veth about everything.

_(Now she had Molly too, apparently. But Molly was a dick. A good friend but a dick.)_

“Well, that’s true,” Beau could see as Veth’s cheek turned a little bit red as she said those words.

“You’ve covered for me a lot,” Beau continued. “Really. You’re already the sidekick of my heart.”

“Aw, stop, you’re gonna make me cry,” Veth hid her face behind her hands, her legs swinging from embarrassment.

“And if you really want to, I can call you Nott from now on. At least when we’re talking about our _secret superhero stuff_ ,” Beau’s eyebrows went up and down as she leaned forward.

“That would be… That would be quite nice, yeah!” Veth, or, well, Nott, nodded quite energetically.

“Then it’s a pleasure working with you, Nott the Brave,” Beau extended her arm, offering to shake the halfling’s hand.

“It’s actually ‘Nott, _the Brave_ ’. There is a pause in the middle,” Veth corrected her as she finally shook Beau’s hand.

“Is there a meaning behind the name?” Beau asked as their hands still held tightly.

“Yes,” answered Nott, the Brave.

But that was all Beau got out of her regarding that name, at least for that day. 

  
  


\---

  
  


A week wasn’t that much time if you thought about it. Still, Beau had time to do stuff, for a change. Yes, just… do stuff.

She spent every afternoon in the gym with Fjord except for the first one. Mostly because, the morning after the _incident_ , she had realized that she couldn’t lift the blind of her own room. That happened, sometimes. Many times, actually. It just got stuck. It was a fairly old building, so it wasn’t that surprising.

She still didn’t know how miss Trickfoot fixed it. So, she had to contact her.

Beau went home soon. She had sent her a message, and Miss Trickfoot had confirmed she didn’t have a shift that afternoon, so she would be there whenever Beau dropped by her house. Being a nurse, Miss Trickfoot had weird sleeping patterns, and Beau really didn’t want to disturb her, so as soon as the landlady answered she rushed home. If she was awake, then it was the perfect time to bother her with such a simple request.

_(Beau felt a little bad, still.)_

Beau stopped herself before ringing the doorbell. She could hear something at the other end of the door.

_“But Pike…”_ that was a guy, undoubtedly.

_“Scanlan. Not the time,”_ and that was clearly the voice of Beau’s landlady, Pike Trickfoot.

_(Huh, Scanlan.)_

_“But I brought you flowers! AND a letter!”_

_“Yeah, well. I appreciate it,”_ Pike sounded a little bit tired. _“But really, I had a very tiring shift.”_

_“Could we have a date this weekend, at least?”_

_“...I’ll think about it,”_ Pike said with a sigh. Now, if you asked Beau, that sounded like a clear ‘no way’. _“Now, if you excuse me…”_

There was a pause. Then some footsteps. Before Beau could think of moving or hiding, the door opened in front of her.

“Ah, Beauregard,” the first thing Beau saw was her landlady, standing near the door to her living room. She looked a little bit tired, bags under her eyes and her bleached almost white hair in a messy bun. “You wanted something, right?”

_(That hair really suited her, Beau thought.)_

Still, the landlady managed to sound cheerful. How did she do that? How did she _always_ do that? That was one of the biggest mysteries in Beau’s life.

Then, Beau looked down in front of her.

A very familiar gnome was standing on the doorway.

“Uh… it isn’t urgent, I can come back later…” she said distractedly, as she tried to place when or where had she seen that gnome. That dark brown hair, that _terrible_ hairstyle, those flashy clothes…

_(Wasn’t that the singer from ‘Scanlan and the Shorthalts’? Like, the actual Scanlan Shorthalt?)_

“Actually—” 

“He was leaving already,” Pike cut short The Scanlan Shorthalt. The other gnome ducked down his head.

“Well, I guess it’s really a goodbye—”

“Scanlan. _Goodbye_ ,” Pike said that last word with too much emphasis. 

That said, finally The Scanlan Shorthalt circled around Beau as fast as he could and took the stairs down. He wasn’t even going to wait for the elevator.

“Y-you know, Miss Trickfoot,” Beau started, still a little bit shocked, “if someone is bothering you, just call me. I can kick any ass in no-time.”

_(“Not every ass,” her brain cell scoffed._

_“Well, I can kick YOUR ass,” Beau told said brain-cell._

_“You do it every day without even trying. Trust me, I very much know, thanks.”)_

“I’m very capable of kicking some asses myself,” Pike smiled sweetly, “but thanks, I’ll keep that in mind. I know you’re strong, Beauregard.”

“I-I try to be,” Beau diverted her gaze. Well, yes. She was strong. She had just suggested that. Still, it was weird to receive compliments from your sweet landlady.

“Now, I guess you didn’t come here to tell me that you can kick anyone’s ass, right?”

After explaining the problem and insisting on the fact that it wasn’t something urgent, Miss Trickfoot promised to go up to her apartment later, when she was well-rested.

_(“I really can do it now,” she had insisted._

_“No, please, just… rest. Please,” had said Beau.)_

The next day Beau saw Jester, of course. Just as every university day. She almost made Beau drop her cup of coffee (again. Jester did that quite a lot of times) with her screams when Beau told her _she had actually met Scanlan Shorthalt in her landlady’s apartment._

“Well, not quite met—” Beau struggled a little. “Also, please, keep it quiet. I don’t think Miss Trickfoot would appreciate people coming to our building if _he_ goes there regularly.”

“Okay, okay, okay, okay,” Jester accompanied each word with a nod. “Understood! But _OH. MY. GOSH. BEAU—”_

Yeah, you really couldn’t count on Jester to be chill. At least she started trying to talk in whispers from then on.

_(Tried, keyword.)_

“Also, what’s going on with Molly?” Jester asked eventually during that conversation. “I asked Gustav and he told me he’s on vacation, like, he voluntarily took this week as _vacation_. Out of thin air! I really wanted to see him,” Jester pouted. “What if he’s sick? Is he sick, Beau? Should we bring him cupcakes and donuts?”

“Well—” Beau started, but stopped herself. What should she say, exactly?

_(For starters, if Molly had actually happened to be sick, Beau didn’t think that donuts and cupcakes were the kind of food he should be eating.)_

“Do you miss him too, right?” Jester asked instead. Beau nodded. At least she didn’t have to answer any of the prior questions. “I hope he’s back soon,” Jester’s pout deepened.

“It’s just a week, though,” Beau tried to sound cheerful. “And if you’re so curious, you can always message or phone him.”

“Phone him? What are you, 50?” Jester mocked her.

“You know what I meant by that, Jes,” Beau couldn’t avoid laughing. That had been funny.

“I knooooow. But _what if_ I message him and he doesn’t answer because he’s dying at home and we don’t know and he is unable to reach for his phone as he’s coughing up on his—”

“Jes. Chill,” Beau shook her head, cutting her mid-sentence. You couldn’t let Jester’s imagination on her own for two whole seconds. “I’m sure he’s fine. Really. Just call him.”

Jester messaged him after that. Molly answered in less than 5 minutes and said that he was fine, definitely not dying, and that he had taken those vacation days to work on a personal project. And that he missed her, yes.

That seemed to calm Jester.

_(It was kinda cute how much she worried about everyone, despite the fact that, on those occasions, she tended to think_ everything _was worse than it really was.)_

“Also, are you planning on making a move on Yasha?”

Aaaand Beau tried to direct the conversation towards anything else. Really. Anything else.

_(She had been thinking about it, truth be told. Like, hoarding some courage in the back of her mind. Yeah._

_...But what if Yasha didn’t even know her name? Oh, fuck Beau already—)_

During that week Beau even got to attend one of the field trips of professor Clay. He had organized a little one-day trip to Alfield, and there Beau and Jester went.

It was fun. Relaxing, even. Beau’s mind had really needed that time to destress a little (who would have thought it?). It had been a while since her only worry had been “you could paint this” or “you could draw that” or “Miss Lionett, please, put on the face mask if you’re working with charcoal today”, or “don’t tell me you forgot your face mask at home? Don’t worry, I’ve brought some to spare.”

“Hey, Spiderboo has been oddly quiet these few days,” Jester noted on their way back from Alfield.

“She might be resting,” Beau shrugged.

“Good! She deserves it!” Jester smiled for a moment, then carefully let her head fall into Beau’s shoulder. She was used to doing that when they were on a bus, and after the first three tries Jester had managed to find the perfect positions so her horns wouldn't hurt Beau. “But what if, like, she is being retained by some evil villain—”

“Nah, she’s strong,” Beau assured her.

_(“Well—”_

_“Shut up.”)_

“You’re right. She’s, like, super strong. Even stronger than you, Beau.”

Beau couldn’t contain her laugh right then.

Yeah, maybe Spiderboo was stronger than just Beau. Jester was probably right on that. Seriously.

A week went on, and really, the only thing Beau didn’t do was visit the Cobalt Soul archive.

_(It was HER forced vacation period. She wasn’t going to see Dairon on vacation. Beau hadn’t reached that level of masochism yet.)_

There was this nagging feeling in her brain, though. The feeling that, if she really wanted to get stronger Just In Case, she really had to go there sooner rather than later. That going to the gym with Fjord wasn’t going to be enough.

So, she finally found herself going through the archive’s doors on Wednesday’s afternoon. Just a week after the incident with her ‘nemesis’. She was technically no longer on vacation, and Molly hadn’t reached yet to her, so it was actually the last time she could have gone there before she resumed her… _activities_ as Spiderboo.

“Well, well, look at who has _finally_ dared to come,” aaaand just as the doors closed behind Beau, she heard Dairon’s voice coming from the end of the main hall. 

“If you prefer me to leave—” Beau rolled her eyes, starting to turn around, but before she could have finished the sentence there was already someone grabbing her by the ear.

That someone, of course, was Dairon.

_(Fuck, they were fast. And stealthy. Beau was also fast, but not THAT fast. And certainly not that stealthy.)_

The tall elf was gently (but firmly) grabbing Beau’s ear, in a way that Beau could only hurt herself if she tried to get away.

“What, is Jennah too occupied to guard the door this time?” Beau huffed, carefully turning again towards Dairon. The dark-skinned elf stood straight in front of her, the only hint of emotion being her arched eyebrows.

“She’s on her lunch break,” Dairon answered shortly. “Everyone has their right to eat.”

“And you?”

“I ate already.”

“Are you going to let me go?”

“I haven’t seen you around here for too long,” Dairon said calmly, “I’m not letting you go that easily. Don’t you remember our agreement?”

“Yeah, yeah…” and then, Beau mumbled, “I’m not even trying to go away anymore, though.”

“Okay,” Dairon finally let her ear go. Beau stood in place. She didn’t try to escape through the door behind her.

It was _utterly useless_ to try to run away from Dairon. Trust Beau. She had tried. Several times.

“See? I’m not going anywhere. I came voluntarily, I stay voluntarily,” Beau made a mocking reverence.

“Two times a week,” was the only thing Dairon said.

“What?” Beau straightened once again.

“Our agreement included you coming here two times a week. I understand that you have classes and friends, but I would very much appreciate if you at least _tried_ to fulfill your part.”

Beau wanted to go away, specifically _to hide_. She knew she would have to face the situation sooner rather than later, but that didn’t make it more pleasing.

The thing was, the first time Beau had gone into the Cobalt Soul it had 100% been _by mistake._

_(“As everything in your life!” shouted the brain cell.)_

It was raining that day. Not only raining, but a big storm was covering Zadash, the biggest one Beau had seen since she had started living there. Judging by the comments of her classmates, it was also a first for them.

Beau had this bad habit of forgetting things. That day, ‘things’ had a name, and that name was _umbrella_ . Or raincoat. Or _literally-anything-that-could-have-protected-her-from-the-storm_. Thinking about it, an umbrella wouldn’t have worked that day, it was too windy.

_(But even a soon-to-be-broken umbrella would have been better than having absolutely nothing.)_

Beau had been waiting for the bus for a long time under the balconies of the near buildings. She saw 3 buses stop in front of her, and the 3 of them went away. They were full to the brim with people, it was impossible for her or for any of the other students (who, like her, were patiently and not so patiently waiting for the bus) to squeeze themselves inside the transport.

At some point, people started to get tired and, in spite of the sky not clearing even a little bit, they started to run under the storm towards their houses, protecting their backpacks with their own bodies.

_(Yeah, no, they weren’t ready to lose their Very Expensive Books to water.)_

Beau ended up doing the same.

_“You can come to my house!”_ Jester had offered her. The tiefling had a whole apartment for herself, and it wasn’t that far from the campus. Her mom paid gladly for it.

_“I’ll be fine!”_ Beau had said, trying to sound tough.

And she would have been fine if the public transport system had _cooperated_.

_(That bus dropped her just two streets away from her apartment. Please. Just please.)_

So, Beau ran under the rain, and every second of it had been _terrible_ and probably very humiliating looking from an outside perspective. At least she wasn’t carrying the trolley that day, just her already worn-down backpack. 

She stopped for a few seconds every couple of minutes, every time she saw a place where she could stay comfortably (say, without too many people crowding it) protected from the storm. Just, you know. Rest a little bit.

_(She was fucking drenched. Do you know what she had also forgotten that day? Her wallet. She had been carrying her bus pass but not her fucking wallet. She could have entered any store and they most probably would have had umbrellas, even if those umbrellas had broken 15 minutes later._

_She would have_ treasured _that fucking broken umbrella, damnit.)_

Beau hadn’t paid attention to the big sign that read “COBALT SOUL ARCHIVE” on top of the door frame under which she was then taking cover.

She was going to resume her run under the storm when the door opened behind her.

_“Finally, you’re here! Come in already, and please take out that drenched jacket,”_ the tall elf who Beau had ended up knowing as Dairon was the one who had just uttered those words.

And Beau hadn’t known exactly why. She still didn’t know. But she had followed Dairon inside.

Turns out, Dairon had mistaken her for another person who had been supposed to go there that day to make their entrance exam. To the Cobalt Soul, yeah. They had arranged the date by phone, so Dairon obviously didn’t know how that person looked, and seeing Beau waiting on the door through the security cameras, the elf had taken the initiative to let the person enter.

All of that, though, Beau hadn’t known until a few months later.

Dairon had accompanied her to the practice room (the only room Beau had ended up knowing in the Cobalt Soul apart from the locker room and the bathrooms. Really. They owned the whole 3 stories building, yet that was all Beau knew. She also suspected the building had a basement, out of limits, of course) and subjected Beau to the entrance exam.

That entrance exam had consisted of just… fighting Dairon.

_(Why hadn’t Beau said something then? Well, she had been drenched until they had lent her some practice clothes. And they had the AC on. Like, really. Beau knew she shouldn’t be following strangers, but—_

_Well, the place didn’t look THAT suspicious.)_

Beau hadn’t stood a chance in that fight. She had ended finally lying on the ground, breathing heavily and feeling like shit after standing up three or four times to keep trying to beat that _dumb elf_ . Because they were _dumb_ . Beau didn’t know exactly why but they were definitely _dumb_.

And Dairon? Dairon had stood there, looking at her, seemingly deep in their thoughts. 

_“You’re in. Come at least twice a week.”_

_“Wait, what—?”_ Beau had huffed. _“How much? I’m— I’m a student,”_ as if that explained everything.

_“Free. For you, it’s free,”_ Dairon had answered.

To that same day, and even if the two of them knew Beau hadn’t been the person appointed that day to make their entrance exam, Dairon still refused to tell her why exactly it was that she wasn’t forcing Beau to pay for her training sessions. 

Beau knew other pupils of the Cobalt Soul trained with other instructors, and she knew they were actually _paying_ for those sessions. 

Yet there she was, coming and going for free. And training with Dairon, which seemed to be the best fighter around there, if Beau’s eyes didn’t deceive her when she looked at the other instructors teaching around the place.

_(And she was her only pupil.)_

“I’m sorry,” Beau ended up saying in a sigh. “I just… lost track of time? And then I was too ashamed to show my face. I really—”

Her phone vibrated in her pocket.

“—I really have to go now. Sorry,” she didn’t even need to pull out her phone. She knew it was Molly.

Dairon’s right eye twitched.

“ _What_.”

“Sorry. Really sorry. I’ll come tomorrow. And the day after tomorrow. Promise. Promise!” Beau repeated as she turned around and opened the door without even looking back. Dairon had begun to say something Beau didn’t get to hear, but oh, to hell with it.

_mollyfuck_

-location sent-

just in case you don’t remember where i live

i’m waiting

  
  


\---

  
  


Beau had run all the way to Molly’s apartment. She was tired, and sweaty, yes, but not as much as how she would have been before getting her cool spider powers. Her resistance had automatically (and gradually too) improved since then.

She ringed the intercom and in no time she was standing in front of Molly’s door, the purple tiefling there looking, for once ... _not at all flashy._ He wore an old black hoodie which was too big for him and khaki baggy pants. He wasn’t even wearing make-up, nor his usual jewelry, and his dark purple hair was tied in a bun.

_(Wow. That sight was a cultural reset.)_

“Sorry for my…” Molly did a hand gesture, indicating himself as a whole. “I prefer to be more comfortable while I work at home.”

“No-one is saying anything,” Beau said.

“Yeah. _No-one_ is saying anything,” Molly said pointedly.

Gotcha. Beau couldn’t say she had seen Molly like that. Ever.

_Ever._

“Come in,” as Molly made a head gesture he took a few steps back, letting Beau in.

He closed the door behind her back.

Beau had been at Molly’s apartment before (always when Yasha wasn’t around) but it had been a long time since the last time. She still remembered where Molly’s room was, but she was surprised when, instead, Molly led her to Yasha’s room.

“Uh—” Beau started. “Isn’t. Isn’t this. Uhm.”

“Yasha’s room? Yes. But because she has moved out for a while I’ve taken the liberty to use her room as a studio. She’s cool with it.”

“Oh. O-okay,” Beau felt herself grow a little red, but it was okay. She had to remind that to herself. Yasha wasn’t there, after all.

_(But she had been there.)_

Now, what was waiting for them behind the door... _looked_ like a bedroom. Or like it had been a bedroom at some point, at least. Because right then it was… a _mess_ . A complete _mess._

Molly’s sewing machine sat on top of the desk, but that was the only clearly striking thing about all the _things_ in that room. There were fabric leftovers covering the floor and the bed, some bigger than others. A couple of boxes full of bobbins sat on top of the almost emptied shelves (some books were still left, probably Yasha’s. She really intended to come back to that place), and some bobbins were just lying around. There were also pieces of paper with designs and patterns on them just lying around, and one was stuck to the window behind the desk. There was also a… bucket, under the desk, full of some sort of blue liquid.

Oh, Beau hadn’t actually mentioned it, sure. Everything lying around there was _blue_. Different hues, sure. But blue.

_(Damn, Molly had taken it seriously.)_

“Here it is,” Molly opened the closet (which had been hidden behind a big piece of blue fabric, seemingly whole. Probably Molly had ended up not using that one) and brought out a single hanger.

And there, indeed, was a blue suit with a blue sash sewn to it.

_(She couldn’t really tell how it was, yet. But it looked good._ Hella _good.)_

“It’s all one single piece,” Molly clarified, as he took it and left the hanger inside of the closet. “I thought it would be easier for you, to be able to ‘suit up’, you know? And that way it’s more comfortable to fight. Oh, also I made the sash in a way so you can—”

“Molly,” Beau interrupted him. “Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s… fucking good.”

_(She really was.)_

“Oh. Uhm. Care to try it on?” Molly handed it to her, looking attentively at Beau’s face.

_(He really wanted to see her reaction. To appreciate it.)_

“I-in… front of you?” Beau asked dumbly.

“I really want to see how it fits you. Also, this is the first time, you’ll need some help to know how to put it on,” Molly stated as a fact.

Well, then it was settled.

_(And it was Molly. Please. Beau had seen him naked several times. It wasn’t as if something was gonna happen to her just because Molly was going to see her Goodbye Doggo panties._

_What? They were cute.)_

Beau turned around as she took off her clothes. Molly handed her the suit, and Beau struggled for a couple of seconds before she found the feet.

_(Also, she was shaking a little bit. Excitement swam on her blood, that was undeniable.)_

Her first thought was that Molly had really thought of everything. There were soles and a certain extra recovering sewn surrounding the feet. It was comfortable, it fit just perfectly. The dark-blue elastic fabric hugged the feet and the lower part of her legs as a second skin.

Then, abruptly, the fabric didn’t hug her anymore. Looking down, Beau saw how the suit transformed into a pair of baggy pants that she would have bought without a second thought if she had seen them in a store, and certainly that was one of the gradients Molly had created dying the fabric (the bucket full of blue liquid still sat there looking at her), towards a very pale blue. She straightened up, leaving the sash at waist-high. The long cloth hugged her waist and then its two ends dangled from there, one at knee-length and the other at ankle-length. A second gradient was at the said sash, deep blue around her waist and a bright, clear blue at its ends.

A waistcoat was sewn around her front torso, and the sleeves ended in bandages in two hues of blue, from the elbow to the palm of her hands, leaving part of her fingers visible.

There was something hanging in front of her chest. And also there was the fact that she hadn’t closed the suit, the zipper being on the back (starting from the sash and going up to what Beau supposed that was her neck).

“Here, let me help you,” Molly talked for the first time in a while as he reached to Beau’s back. “It’s an invisible zipper— give me your hand. You feel it? It goes a little bit below the sash, then up to your neck. It shouldn’t take you a lot to zip it up. Let me— like this. See? You’ll probably need your two hands, though, or someone helping you. But I don’t think you have any help, so there’s that.”

_(Beau hadn’t told him about Veth, of course. Anyways, she definitely wasn’t going to ask Veth for help each time she had to put on that suit._

_...Nott. Right. Nott.)_

And with that, the zipper was up.

“Now, the mask…” Molly turned her around with gentle movements. With a proud (and very smug) smile on his face, he grabbed the thing that was dangling on Beau’s chest.

He stretched it up, and then back, covering Beau’s face.

Beau’s first thought was related to the fact that she was still seeing and breathing fairly fine despite having fabric hugging her entire head, eyes included.

_(If anything, it was a little bit… white. But the fabric there seemed to be quite porous. Enough for her vision to be great enough, but probably without letting anyone who wasn’t close enough to see her eyes.)_

“And this is attached… here,” Molly stretched it out a little bit further under what Beau could suspect was the top back piece of the waistcoat. The smugness of Molly’s smile increased. “ _Perfect. Just perfect._ Or, well, is it too tight somewhere?”

“Can I… give a few kicks?” Beau asked. Molly’s only response was stepping back as much as he could, leaning back on the desk.

That said, Beau indeed took a couple of high-kicks, the sash flowing with her legs, and then punched the air a few times. 

“Impressive,” Molly commented.

“It’s fine,” Beau opened and closed her hands a couple of times, almost enchanted. “It’s… more than fine, actually. Molly, dude, you fucking outdid yourself—”

“Then wait to see how you look because Beauregard, _darling_ , you look stunning!” Molly clapped his hands out of excitement. “Follow me, I have a full-body mirror in my room—”

And certainly, when Beau saw herself for the first time, when she saw _Spiderbeau_ for the first time, she had to agree.

_She_ was stunning.

The dark blue hue that was present on the feet and ankle area was also the color of the fabric recovering her chest and part of her arms. From the ankles, as she had already seen, the fabric changed its color to a white-blue, gradually. What she hadn’t noticed, though, had been the delicate, almost white embroideries that decorated the pants, looking like cobwebs, starting just where the sash stopped hugging her waist and reaching the end of the baggy pants, where they faded. They _faded_ . How had Molly done that, holy fuck? One slight movement and she also noticed that those embroideries _shimmered_ with the light _._

_Holy fucking fuck._ She gasped out loud. Molly laughed.

The bandages on her arms and the waistcoat shared colors, too. The bright blue and the dark blue (though way less dark than the prior dark blue) of the bandages tangled together beautifully. The waistcoat was of this dark blue hue, and it had some embroidery too that extended to the back of her neck, being on the bright hue.

In the center of her chest, between the open waistcoat, there was a carefully embroidered spider in light blue.

_(She_ loved _that. Holy fucking fuck. It was way better than the spider she had drawn on her hoodie.)_

Her head was also… quite awesome, lacking of a better word. Because Beau couldn’t really think of better adjectives right then. It was made of the same dark-blue fabric of her chest and feet. But, indeed as she had already imagined, white pieces of fabric covered her eyes in a _pretty cool shape._ The same bright blue of the bandages was present as little oval dots emulating some kind of eyebrows, and also following the dark line around the white cloth that covered her eyes, as if it was eyeshadow.

_(Molly. Of course.)_

Finally, another cobweb-like embroidered pattern covered the crown of her head and faded towards her face in this same bright blue. All the look was completed by the sash.

“Look, you can—” Molly cut himself as he leaned forward to grab the sash’s ends. He then proceeded to wrap Beau’s waist with yet more fabric. He made a big bow on Beau’s front. “—So it doesn’t bother you at times. Yep. It really looks cool while fighting, you’ve seen that. I can guess the same about swinging. But there are sometimes it might just be— a bother, right? The length is perfect so you can tie it around yourself, as you can see.”

And then proceeded to undo the bow, letting the sash fall delicately around Beau.

Wow.

_(Wow.)_

“Wow,” was the only word Beau managed to utter. She was wordless. Speechless.

_That person_ in front of her actually looked like a heroine. A superheroine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did some art of Spiderbeau design, (([here](https://twitter.com/ImNotAMarySue/status/1239335690573352960?s=20))you don't have to have a twitter account to see it, don't worry). I tried to make it... believable? Logical, at least? Nobody fucking asks how the hell Spiderman suit works, why would anyone care about a fan-design spidersona of Beauregard Lionett of Critical Role made specifically for a piece of dumb fanfiction?  
> (Please don't be too harsh. It's (almost) my first time actually designing clothes, I'm aware it's not my thing BUT I tried to get feedback from friends while I was coloring it. Because the design itself has been sitting on my sketchbook since, like, November?)
> 
> Anyways. She has a (probably) cool suit now! Yay! (I really want to think Molly would have done it better, but my skills only go that far). Dairon appeared, yeah. And so did Pike (...and Scanlan). Don't worry, every character that hasn't really been on the second campaign is just doing occasional cameos (as did Keyleth), just as some of the guest characters (did you see Reani appeared on Chapter 3? Nila and her family did on chapter 2). Who knows? Maybe they'll make an appearance at some point.  
> (And I swear I'll get to my boy Caduceus at some point. Like, properly.)  
> And Essek? Well, he'll appear every once in a while. Guess who's including some background Shadowgast? (Hoping you don't mind).
> 
> Again don't get your hopes up about me updating soon. Like, I might update again in 3 days. You might not see me around for 3 fucking months because I got the new Animal Crossing. You can always come and ask me how I'm doing in the comment section or through twitter, like. I don't mind at all. Sometimes I just need people to remind me I have stuff to do.
> 
> ANYGAYS, take care of yourselves, wash your fucking hands, stay at home, and, yeah, don't fall into collective hysteria. Read fanfics and chill, I guess. Or write them in a rush like I did (please don't do that, you'll hurt yourself).


	5. Not under Beau's watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OHMYGODBEAU
> 
> OHMYGOD
> 
> OHMYGDJDBSK
> 
> SOMETHING AMAZING JUST HAPPENED 
> 
> LIKE
> 
> BETTER THAN AMAZING
> 
> THE AMAZINGNEST
> 
> OKAY
> 
> OKAYOKAYOKAY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you. Updating after 3 days, and then spending 3 months drowning in a block. Amazing.
> 
> Again, not betaed, though kudos to Ari (@_ARIenigena) for speed-reading this. I would appreciate if you told me any mistakes you see, though. 
> 
> More notes at the end!

Swinging between the buildings had never felt that _great_. Or, well, it hadn’t felt that good in the two months Beau had been doing so.

It had been Molly’s idea (read: insistence) what had made Beau get out of his window to try her cool new suit right away. Admittedly, it hadn’t taken a lot to convince her. Molly had just had to insist once. She was _hyped_. That word was the closest to the current feeling that shot through her veins.

_(Which was probably just adrenaline, but HYPED. Hyped adrenaline, was that a thing?)_

Beau had almost forgotten she hadn’t eaten yet. Between getting out of class, then going to see (to get scolded by) Dairon and then run to Molly’s apartment she hadn’t even thought of it. The ball of excitement present in her stomach was a good food substitute for the time being.

_(It really wasn’t. She didn’t know the time, but her brain cell knew very well that the human would certainly regret that later._

_Kids, eat. Don’t skip meals. Don’t be like Beau.)_

She saw how the people on the street looked up, pointing at her, and she even managed to hear an excited _“it’s Spiderboo!”_ among the noise of the cars and the general bustle of the city. Her chest swelled a little bit with happiness after hearing those people, specifically their excitement.

_(She was excited, they were excited. Heck yes.)_

After swinging through half of Zadash, she found herself in the university campus again. She stopped on top of the Law building (irony at its finest, but it was one of the tallest in the area) and sat on the border, adrenaline still running wild through her veins and huffing a little through the mask.

Damn, that had been _good._ Better than just good. Just… _the best. Exhilarating._

_(Swinging really had never felt that good.)_

Beau had to sit for a little bit, though. Just. A little. Breath. Take deep breaths. And the top of the law building was just fine to do that. Students usually walked too deep in their thoughts to look up at the sky, which was quite convenient for Beau.

_(The only ones who looked at the sky quite frequently were the philosophy students, but they usually stuck to the little garden in front of their own building. There was always this funny smell surrounding the area and—)_

But Beau could look down. She could always look down. The small bit of apprehension she had had towards heights had disappeared quite quickly, she didn’t have any trouble with that anymore. So, really, looking towards the ground was more than fine.

Her surprise was capital, though, when she saw a very familiar blue tiefling walk happily through the campus, passing just by the building’s side.

Beau smiled unconsciously. Jester’s tail swung from side to side as she kept walking, carrying a couple of big books. Oh, right. Two weeks ago Jester had told her she had borrowed a couple of books from the art section of the library. An anatomy atlas on dragonborns and a book about… some... museum in Tal’Dorei? Like, including the pictures exhibited on it. She had told Beau exactly _why_ she had borrowed them, but Beau had totally erased that info from her brain.

_(“She wanted the atlas to draw porn,” the brain cell said. “As for the other book—”_

_“NobODY ASKED. BEHOLD, INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS.”)_

However, something _else_ caught Beau’s attention. Like, _really_ caught it.

_(It was as if a sixth sense told her exactly—)_

There was… _someone_ following Jester. An ogre, to be exact. Anyone could have thought that it was just… _coincidence._ But _something_ told Beau it wasn’t like that.

The ogre looked _older_ than expected for a person on a university campus. And, okay, there were teachers, and also some students who had started their degrees later in their lives. But Beau _didn’t_ find his face familiar. Not at all.

Still, Beau was still in her second year. It wouldn’t have been a reach to say that she didn’t know everyone around there. Even more, if the person attended classes in the afternoons, there were high chances Beau hadn’t seen him _ever._

Could have been that. But it wasn't that, was it? No, Beau didn't think so. 

It was… _something else._ Just something else. Beau couldn't pinpoint exactly _what._ Not yet.

But the thing was, the ogre was _there_. Maybe it was the way he walked, the way he seemed to purposely be following Jester around. 

And oh, yeah, now that she was looking closer the guy had the face covered in scars and broken teeth. Not cool, and definitely not the usual ogre you find in a campus.

_…But she could be wrong._

_(But she wasn't wrong! Ever! Not since she had been bitten by that spider! Her intuition was good as hell._

_Well. Except in that one test_ — _)_

But. Just in case. 

She moved swiftly between the campus buildings, her eyes glued to Jester’s back. And then it was the ogre. Because he was _actively_ following Jester, Beau knew that for sure now. He was bad at making it seem like he was just casually taking the same path as the blue tiefling. 

But, for over five minutes, he didn't do shit. Then Jester entered the library, and the ogre sat on a bench, looking around him. Talk about pretending! Not even a couple of minutes later, Jester came out book-less and began her way back to her apartment. 

And, of course, the ogre stood up and began walking behind her.

"Ugh," Beau muttered. She couldn't even text Jester to try to _get her far from there_ , or at least get her to a more packed place because she had left her phone at Molly's. _Of course she had forgotten her phone at Molly's._ The tiefling had even sewn a pocket between the sash and the suit for her to be able to keep her phone around, AND YET Beau had forgotten it. 

She shouldn't be surprised at herself. She honestly shouldn't. 

So, the thing was, what could she do? She had to save Jester, obviously. Because the situation seemed one in which saving was needed. And she, Beau, was kind of a superheroine, right? Frankly, the solution was clear: kick the ogre's ass, leave the scene before Jester could even think of talking to her and then— wait.

Normally there was someone who called the police. Beau didn't even have to ask. Nor use her phone. Using her phone would be a bad idea. But, like, the ogre wasn't doing anything _wrong_ apparently. So even if people saw the scene, they would probably think Spiderboo had turned against A Poor Citizen. 

So. Beau had to _wait_ for the ogre to do something, and then act fast. Even if she didn't like the idea. NO ONE would hurt Jester under Beau's watch. 

_No one._

_(UGH. She couldn’t go around telling the police she had attacked someone who hadn’t done anything. Just because she felt sort of a “tingle” in the back of her neck.)_

The opportunity she had been waiting happened before she expected, though.

After following them for a couple of minutes, Jester turned right to one of the _darkest_ streets on the campus. Because of course the blue girl was taking a shortcut towards her apartment.

And then, the ogre started walking faster. He reached towards Jester—

Beau fell from the top of the biology building just as the ogre grabbed Jester’s arm. Beau could hear him ask as she fell.

“Hey, do you know the Ge—?”

But he only got to say those 5 words before Spiderboo kicked his face. With the impulse from the kick Beau leaped into the air and made a somersault, falling swiftly to the ground just behind Jester.

_(THAT had had to look cool. Beau had no proof, but also no doubt.)_

“WOW THAT WAS SO—” Jester started screaming on top of her lungs, but before she could finish Beau grabbed her delicately, as if she weighed nothing and dropped her with the same care behind her own back.

Thankfully, the ogre was still recovering from the kick when she turned around.

_(Wow, was that a tooth on the floor? Beau hadn’t intended to kick him that hard._

_‘Well, you just kicked him after falling from a three-story building.’_

_...Yeah, the brain cell was right. She could have predicted that.)_

Now, though, what she had to do was just—

"THAT WAS SUPER COOL!!" Jester continued screaming behind her. "YOU'RE SPIDERBOO, RIGHT? OH MY GOOOOSH I'M LIKE, A FAN OF YOURS—" 

Distracted for a second, Beau didn't see the punch coming but she managed to avoid it just in time. 

"WOW, SO COOL!"

"JE—" Beau stopped herself. Nope, not fucking it up again. "J—JUST GET AWAY," she ended up saying half in a screech (thankfully, that hadn't sounded like her real voice) as she grabbed the guy by the arm. 

"AW, BUT—"

"AWAY," she managed to trip him with an easy movement, the ogre falling with a thud to the floor. 

"I won't get it right if I'm away…" Jester half mumbled. 

Okay, yeah. Whatever that meant. Beau had an ogre to stop. With the hand that wasn't grabbing the guy's arm she shot a web at his right foot that pinned him to the floor. A first time. Then she let go and shot a second web at the other foot with her other hand in a rapid succession.

Yeah, that would get him stuck for a while. 

"I just wanted to talk to—!" 

Oops, yeah. The mouth. A second later and a web was now firmly closing it. And now, the hands—

"Following young women around just because you feel like it? Not cool," Beau said with her Tracy voice. Like, she could have said something better, probably. She was more eloquent in other situations. But she was already nervous enough because Jester was there and if she gave away any hint of her real identity—

"Spiderboo, Spiderboo! Turn around, turn around!" 

"Wha—" Without thinking too much and accustomed to obey whatever Jester commanded, Beau of course turned around. 

Yeah, she turned around to find Jester holding up her phone, the horribly decorated phone case which actually had four googly eyes glued to it looking at Beau. 

"Oh my gosh, that suit is like, SO COOL." 

"Are you… recording?" Beau asked. 

But of course Jester was recording. 

"Yep," and she seemed proud of it. 

"For how long?!" 

"Five seconds! I couldn't record your super cool entrance, you should warn before you do it so I can record it! Wait, can you repeat it?" 

"I— n-no?" Beau stuttered out.

"Aw, dang. Sad. But it was really cool!"

"Please just stop recording and call the police," Beau sighed. 

"First give me a 360 degrees turn!" 

"But—" 

"Pretty pleeeeeease?" 

Damn the Jester pout. Before Beau realized what she was doing, she was turning around to let Jester see the full suit. 

"Happy?" 

"A lot!" Jester smiled big, and apparently finally stopped recording. Beau could finally _breathe._ "Okay, okay, okay, now I'll call the police." 

"Good. Good!" Beau's shoulders relaxed. Finally. _Finally._ "Then I'm taking my leave—" 

"Wait!" Jester lifted up her phone again. " _NOW_ you can leave. Give me a cool exit."

"Huh…" Under the mask, Beau blinked slowly. A cool exit? What was Jester talking about? "Sure. Huh. A cool exit. Yeah."

Beau just extended her right arm towards the sky (more exactly towards the top floor of the biology building) and shot out a web.

And up she went.

“SO COOL! LIKE SO SO COOL!” she could hear Jester excited shouts as she started to swing away.

\---

“How has it been?” Molly asked, a smile on his lips, as Beau hastily entered through the window. She closed it after she was inside and then closed the curtain.

_Then_ she took off the mask.

“Awesome. Like. It has been awesome, dude. Amazing,” she felt herself smiling. And then, her smile froze. “But I saw Jester,” she sat on top of the desk.

“You saw Jester,” Molly repeated, his smile also frozen. He was sitting on his own bed. “And…?”

“She didn’t recognize me. I think.”

“Well—”

"But oh my fuck, what if she has?" 

"Actually—" 

"Molly, I'm fucked. If she has realized I'm fucked—" 

"She just—" 

"Like, I love Jester," Beau started again, completely ignoring Molly, "but we all know she cannot keep a secret. Or, it takes her _a lot_ to keep a secret, and oh, this one? This one is _BIG_!" 

"She actually started texting you about 10 minutes ago!" Molly finally said. Beau's train(wreck) of thought stopped abruptly. "I've been reading her text as they were appearing on your screen. Sorry. The thing is— Well, see for yourself," and that said, Molly made a vague movement towards the bed, where Beau's phone was lying. 

Just where she had thrown it. Probably. 

_Jester ❤_

OHMYGODBEAU

OHMYGOD

OHMYGDJDBSK

SOMETHING AMAZING JUST HAPPENED 

LIKE

BETTER THAN AMAZING

THE AMAZINGNEST

OKAY

OKAYOKAYOKAY

(btw sending text messages bcs i caNNOT SCREAM ABOUT THIS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET OKAY??) 

okay

OKAY!! 

THERE IT GOES

THREE

FUCKIT

I SAW SPIDERBOO!!! 

AND SHE'S THE COOOOLEST

BUT LIKE NOW FOR REAL

BECAUSE

SHE HAS A COOL SUIT NOW!!

SUCK IT UP MOLLY!

AND LIKE I HADN'T SEEN IT BEFORE SO I GUESS IT'S BRAND NEW SO THAT MEANS I'M THE FIRST PERSON EVER TO SEE IT

i mean i was like returning the books i told you?? to the library??? and i didnt realize but apparently this big scary ogre was following me around

and he tried to capture me or something i dont know

but then spiderboo appeared!!

and she kicKED HIS ASS!!!

she was like KICK PUNCH WEB WEB WEB

she saved me!!

aND OHMYGOSH HER SUIT

IT WAS BEAUTIFUL LIKE

WAIT I'M SENDING YOU THE VIDEO I TOOK

Beau stared blankly at her phone screen as relief flooded her veins. Well. Jester didn't know. That was more than clear. If Jester knew Beau was Spiderboo she would have jumped at her first thing after realizing. 

_(Haha, overthinking, you trick-ass bitch.)_

And yep, there it was. The thankfully-not-famous video of her making a fool of herself in front of Jester after kicking the ogre's ass into the ground. 

Just. How can the demeanor of a person change so much in about half a minute?

"Oh, wow," said Molly, who had been reading and watching the video glancing over Beau's shoulder. 

"Yep. Oh wow." 

"I can't believe she sent that to you and not to me." 

“Privileges, I guess,” Beau said plainly.

“Yeah. Privileges. Anyway, what had the ogre done?” Molly asked.

“Uuuh, he was following Jester around. Not being exactly subtle. I was already suspicious so I followed them, and then Jester entered the alley just by biology—”

“Wait, does she REALLY think it’s a good idea to go through that alley?”

“And you’re surprised?”

“Fair. Go on.”

“The thing is, then the ogre reached out to her. Like, he tried to _grab_ her."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. Didn't look good. The ogre gave me bad vibes, tho. So I kicked his ass. Not literally, you know, but… yeah."

“You vibe checked him?”

“No— no? I mean, webs?” Beau shook her own hands, confused, made the gestures of shooting webs. As if they were internationally recognized gestures, sure.

“Yeah, you vibe checked him in your... own particular way,” Molly insisted.

_(Yeah. Okay, right. Vibe check.)_

“Oh, wait a second,” Molly pulled out his phone. “NOW she’s telling me. Yep. Also, you should probably answer Jess before she gets more… stimulated, if that’s possible.”

Oh, yeah, right. Beau hadn’t even finished checking all of the messages.

_Jester ❤_

SHE WAS SO NICE!

though her voice is a little weird

i dont know how to explain it

ANYWAY

where are you?? you arent reading my messages

did you forget your phone again?

again??

beau???

beauuuuuu

_Me_

uh yeah

obviously i forgot it

_Jester ❤_

YOURE ALIVE!!!

_Me_

am i??

_Jester ❤_

ominous

ANYWAY

_Me_

sorry i was with dairon

_Jester ❤_

TRAINING??

_Me_

yep

_Jester ❤_

yOU???

_Me_

jUST A LITTLE BIT

DON’T SOUND THAT SURPRISED???

_Jester ❤_

so you forgot your mobile…?

_Me_

at home

why are you even asking

_Jester ❤_

yep yep disappointed but not surprised

_Me_

:(

_Jester ❤_

ANYWAYS

HAVE YOU SEEN IT?

HAVE YOU SEEN THE VIDEO?

_Me_

yeeeah just saw it

_Jester ❤_

AAAAND???

_Me_

pretty cool!

i’m glad you’re okay though

_Jester ❤_

yeah okay bUT SPIDerbOO!!

_Me_

what about her?

_Jester ❤_

HER SUIT??? HER??? EVERYTHING???

_Me_

oh yeah she’s obviously pretty cool

and the suit too

_Jester ❤_

i want her to be my girlfriend

Beau almost managed to keep a straight face. And by “almost managed to” she meant she had to turn off her phone and throw it away in Yasha’s old bed.

“Something wrong?” Molly asked. He had not been paying attention to their messages, for once.

“Uuuh, nope. Nope. Everything’s fine. Yep. Fine. Sorry,” Beau lied. Obviously lied. She picked up her phone again and sat on Yasha’s old bed.

_(Wait. That really was Yasha’s old bed. Yasha’s old bed and future bed, actually, because she would come back to that house. Beau was in Yasha’s room. Beau. In. Oh fuck. Oh, she had forgotten it for like, 5 minutes, time to panic again.)_

“Whatever you say,” Beau could almost hear Molly’s eye roll.

_Jester ❤_

haha sorry crazy thought

_Me_

oh yeah

crazy

you had scared me for a second

_Jester ❤_

i actually want to marry her

That’s it. That was it. Too weird. Yep. Best friend making comments about dating AND marrying her without actually knowing it was her? You bet. The weirdest.

Fuck, when had Beau’s like turned out to be so…? Surreal? Yeah, that was the word. What had she done to deserve that? As in, yeah, cool powers, biggass responsibility, a person in black appearing out of thin air trying to kill you, your best friend saying she wants to marry your… alter ego? Superhero-sona? What the hell? What the fucking hell?

Honestly it was a mystery how Beau hadn’t been freaking out 24/7 for the past two months. Straight. No rest. Only panic. 

_Me_

haha so funny

_(‘“Haha so funny”, you’re so fucking dumb,’ said the brain cell.)_

_Jester ❤_

HDBKLJWBXJW

but like, i totally love her

_(What was that keysmash supposed to MEAN.)_

_Jester ❤_

i hope i get to see her again!! she seemed nice

like REALLY nice

like shes friend material

(wouldnt replace you tho youre my bestest friend forever beau!!)

_Me_

oh knowing your luck??

you’ll find her again

_(That could be interpreted both ways, actually. Huh.)_

Because, really. No one would hurt Jester under Beau’s watch.

  
  


\---

  
  


“...And has your friend told you about the washing machine settings to clean _this_?” Veth (or, well, Nott) asked, Beau’s new suit extended on top of her dinner table.

“I don’t know. Don’t you wash everything with the same settings?” Beau asked, confused.

“I used to. But Yeza gets mad if I do that.”

“Uh?”

“...I might have shrunk too many ‘favourite shirts’,” Nott admitted. “But how do you even _survive_?”

“Caleb knows how to do stuff,” said Beau.

“Very specific.”

“Like, you know. Stuff.”

“Still, very specific. And who would have thought? Looking at him...”

The both of them stood looking at each other in complete silence during five seconds straight. 

Right. Caleb.

_(He was slightly more functional than what you thought. Just slightly.)_

Eventually Molly answered Beau’s message asking about the washing machine settings and so Nott could breathe again. Beau came back to her own apartment, suit well hidden inside her (still almost broken) backpack.

What she didn’t expect, though, was finding _him_ again in their house.

“Hey, Caleb,” said Beau, not even looking at him. She was looking at the drow tutor that sat just by Caleb’s side on _their_ (Beau and Caleb’s) dinner table.

_(Essmek? Assmuck? Essick? Who knew! Beau had been close to a panic attack when she had met him for the first time!)_

“ _Hallo_ , Beauregard,” Caleb immediately greeted back, his classic drawl even more pronounced than usual. Huh. He didn’t even look up from the book he had on his hands, a tower of a bunch of those with a similar width at his right.

The one who looked up, though, was the drow.

“A pleasure seeing you again, Miss Lionett.”  
  


_‘Oh, fuck you, you’re not my teacher, don’t call me “Miss”’._

“Hey,” and that was it, that was all Beau said towards Mr. Pretty Eyes (what? His eyes WERE pretty) while she was standing under the door frame.

“Do you need something? We’re pretty busy right now,” said Caleb.

“Not really,” Beau admitted.

“I won’t occupy your living room much longer, though,” Mr. Pretty Eyes intervened, still looking at Beau. “I have a meeting, but I still wanted to come here to answer Caleb’s doubts in case he had—”

“Right,” Beau cut him. Okay, that had been _too_ rude. Mr Pretty Eyes didn’t have to be _bad._ He looked like someone had shoved a stick up his ass, yes, but Beau had only met once before and she hadn’t been in the best of… _places_. And right then he was being quite… nice? Yeah, nice. 

You could say that. 

_(Could you?)_

"Whatever, take your time," Beau added, trying to sound a little bit kinder. Just. A little bit. "I'll be in my room. And oh, wait," Beau stopped herself before completely turning around, "where's Frumpkin?" 

"Gone," said Caleb, sounding uninterested. 

"Gone?!" Beau repeated, snapping back towards his flatmate, who suddenly stood straight on his chair, a hint of panic in his eyes. 

"Ah… _nein_ , no, no! I meant he's off… somewhere. In the house. Sorry. I was thinking about before you arrived. He was hanging out with us for a while. In this room. But then he went away. He could be in your room…?" Caleb added. 

_(Uh, okay. That had been weird. Although to be fair everything in Caleb was a little bit weird.)_

"Right. Yeah," Beau adjusted her position a little. "Better he hasn't pissed on my clothes _again_."

"Oh, no he won't do that, he's a very smart _katze_."

"Being very smart isn't something good if he isn't trained, though," Beau groaned as she finally turned around, making way to her room. 

Thankfully, the cat wasn't in there. Good. Frumpkin was a beautiful cat, but a _cat_ nevertheless. Maybe he was tearing down one of Caleb's coats to shreds. 

A cat was _a cat_. Always.

Beau was already lying in bed when she saw the hour on her mobile phone (almost 6 pm) and realized she, in fact, hadn’t eaten shit since that morning. Her stomach had been complaining since she left Molly’s, but somehow her subconscious had managed to brush it off.

_(EXCITEMENT, JUMP, WEB, WEB, WEB, OGRE!!! OH, JESTER!!! EXCITEMENT!!! Oh, and you’re also fucking hungry.)_

Despite being fucking tired, Beau forced herself to stand up and go to the kitchen. After staring blankly inside the fridge for about 30 seconds and then doing the same with the pantry, she finally decided to heat herself a pizza.

Yep. At 6 pm.

_(Did that count as lunch or it had started counting as dinner already?)_

She listened to Caleb and Mr. Pretty Eyes in the background as the oven heated up. They were talking about… linguistics. Letters stuff. Nerd stuff. Beau still didn’t know what the heck was Caleb’s Ph.D. about, no.

_(Would she know one day? The thing was, Caleb had mentioned it several times. But Beau just kept forgetting about it.)_

She tuned their conversation out after she put the pizza in said oven. Nothing interesting there, being honest, just nerds talking about nerd stuff.

_(It was pretty weird thinking that Mr. Pretty Eyes was an even bigger nerd than Caleb, but that was Probably A Thing.)_

So, Beau pulled out her phone. Or, well, she would have if she hadn’t left it in her room.

Goddammit. Always. ALWAYS.

30 seconds later Beau was back in the kitchen, now the mobile in her hand as she scrolled down on Twitter.

What surprised her was that, apparently, _she was trending_.

Not Beau, though. Spiderboo. Of course. 

A quick look at the trend revealed that some people had taken pretty blurry pictures and videos of her swinging that same afternoon around the city with her new suit. Some people said that it was definitely _not_ Spiderboo, some people were curious, some people said it was _definitely_ her but were angry because “she had lost her touch”, some people were sure it was her and were fangirling. Mostly the comments were positive, but somehow the negative ones are the ones that always stand out the most.

Anyways. Beau wasn’t really affected. If people didn’t have anything more important to do than worry about her fashion choices, then it was not her problem.

And then there were _fanarts_ . Like, _ACTUAL_ fanarts. No one got close enough to what her suit actually was, not with the _horrible references_ that were going around, blurry pictures and shaky videos, but they were pretty good takes nonetheless. Still, Molly’s mind had been _way bigger_ when he had decided what currently was her suit.

_(Biggest brain ever, conveniently supported by Beau’s terrible and unpractical fashion choices. As if Molly’s fashion sense wasn’t something extremely weird, though surprisingly fitting, on its own.)_

They were good takes, though. Beau wouldn’t have minded wearing some of the designs she was seeing in the app.

Also, what the hell? How could people be that fast? Didn’t they have a life outside drawing? Beau had a life outside drawing, thank god. If her degree was her life she would have quitted everything a long time ago.

_(Hating Fine Arts was a personality and it was the personality of every person that studied Fine Arts.)_

How much time had gone by since she had been swinging around the city? A couple of hours? And there were drawings in the TT that looked WAY more elaborated than what Beau herself would be capable of doing in a single afternoon.

Artists. What a concept.

Then something brought her out of her Twitter timeline. A laugh. Caleb's laugh. 

_Caleb laughing. Caleb laughing?_ What the hell? That was not normal? 

"Is everything alright? Beau appeared again at the living room's door, a little bit concerned. The laugh was still present on Caleb's lips, although it was close to dying. 

It was... SO WEIRD. 

"Oh, of course everything's alright!" Caleb assured. And he sounded _sincere._

"I made a comment and Mr. Widogast found it funny," Mr. Pretty Eyes clarified. 

Funny. Caleb found something funny. 

_(He seemed changed since Beau had given him Frumpkin. How much could a person change because of a cat? Was it because of the cat, even? Wasn’t that the only recent big change in their lives?)_

"...Suuure," said Beau, not sure at all. Mr. Pretty Eyes didn’t look like the life of the party, and Caleb _didn’t laugh_. Not that Beau knew.

_(Not until that exact moment, at least?)_

Maybe Caleb had the weirdest sense of humor ever and Mr Pretty Eyes had just casually found how it worked. Yeah, that could be it. Although it still sounded strange.

Caleb having a sense of humor. Wow.

Then both her stomach and the beeping sound of the oven made Beau came back to reality. 

For the time being, her main concern should be _pizza_. She would have time to worry about Caleb being broken or not later.

_(Maybe he could be a little bit functional, after all.)_

  
  


\---

  
  


“I’m going to start a blog,” declared Jester as soon as she sat down in front of Beau and Molly, who had been waiting for her for more than 15 minutes.

“...A blog,” repeated Beau.

“A blog!” echoed Molly quite more enthusiastically. “About…?”

“Spiderboo!”

…

Why was Beau surprised? Why?

Molly’s smile froze on his face. Beau clutched a little her coffee cup a little tighter.

“I want to post my video _somewhere_ . Like, I’m the only person that actually has a video of her outfit! That is a good kick to start. And I’m, like, super passionate about Spiderboo. And Beau, you said yesterday that I will meet her again surely!” Jester counted the reasons lifting one finger after the other. “Also, I’m doing it because I want to. And if it doesn’t go well, it will _surely_ have been an experience. But it _will_ go well.”

And damn, she sounded confident with that.

“...We didn’t ask you about a whole list of reasons, but I’m sure _—_ ”

“It will go well!” Beau completed Molly’s sentence. Jester’s eyes lighted up, they would have sparkled if she had been a cartoon.

_(Something which, admittedly, she was very close to being.)_

“You’re the best, Beau! I couldn’t ask for a more supportive f _—_ ”

“Wait, girls, shut up, shut up!” Molly interrupted, his eyes fixed somewhere behind Beau. Eyes that seemed about to come out of their sockets.

“What? What’s wro _—_ oh my _damn_ ,” Jester interrupted herself, and then she was looking in the _same exact direction than Molly_.

“Look at _that ass_.”

“ _Damn!_ ”

“Oh, sorry, Beau,” Molly looked at her for a whole second and then looked back to whatever he was… appreciating.

“What the _—_ ” Beau began saying as she turned around.

The words got stuck in her throat.

Fjord. Fjord was there. Alone. With a tank top and jeans. As if they weren’t still in fucking winter. 

Beau looked at her friends. Beau looked at Fjord. Then at her friends again.

Yep. They were definitely staring at Fjord. Or at Fjord’s ass, very possibly. 

When she looked back at Fjord she almost jumped out of her chair. Because Fjord was _actually_ looking back at her, seemingly oblivious to the fact that two tieflings were clearly ogling at him.

And then, Fjord waved his hand _at her_.

The effect was immediate.

Molly almost jumped out of his seat and grabbed Beau by the shoulders.

“ _You_.”

“Me?” Beau’s voice came out in a screech.

“ _YOU!!!_ ” Molly repeated.

“ME???”

“You know such a _hot_ guy and you just decide to…? Omit it?” Jester leaned forward, almost knocking Beau’s cup.

“I didn’t omit it!” Beau lifted her hands, trying to get rid of Molly’s grip. “That’s Fjord.”

_“_ Fjord?”

“ _FJORD?!”_

“Can you please be a little bit more quiet _—_ ”

“Hey, uh, Beau,” said Fjord, who apparently had gotten closer to their table while the tieflings were freaking out.

Molly let her go suddenly, just as if he had just received an electric shock. Subtle. Smooth. Yep.

“Hey, Fjord. Dude. Friend. Err. You here! That’s… weird,” Beau managed to voice out. Not awkward. Not awkward at all.

“Uuuuh, yeah, well _—_ ” Fjord changed his weight from one leg to the other as he scratched his head. “We have a good cafeteria at my building, so _—_ ”

“Hi! Fjord! I’m Jester! I’m friends with Beau!” Jester started batting her eyelashes, a WIDE smile plastered on her face. 

“Oh, yeah, Jester. Beau has mentioned you,” Fjord hummed.

“Has she?”

“Yes, quite a number of times, actually?” Fjord responded, suddenly sounding quite unsure. He looked at Beau. Yep, he was unsure. Did he doubt his own memory?  
  


“Has she mentioned me? Hi, I’m single, but you can call me Molly,” and with his best smile, Molly extended his hand towards Fjord.

Beau facepalmed immediately.

“Uh… Single? That’s quite a name,” Fjord answered, shaking Molly’s hand.

_‘Please end my suffering already’._

“Don’t take him seriously, please,” Beau felt the necessity to intervene. “These are Molly, _short of Mollymauk_ , and Jester. My best friends… _somehow_.”

“Hey!” Jester pouted.

“And, yes, this is Fjord. He’s my gym buddy,” Beau rolled back her eyes.

_(That was… not a meeting Beau thought she would witness someday.)_

“Sometimes Beau is more like a trainer than a gym buddy, but yeah,” Fjord laughed a little, a small rumble on his throat. Beau could see how Jester and Molly’s eyes _widened_. “I’m a marine biologist undergraduate.”

Wait. That was _new_. Marine biologist? Fjord? Since _when the ever-loving-fuck_?

_(That shit didn’t suit him at all. What. The heck. Beau could have never told. Marine biologist? Like, an ACTUAL marine biologist?)_

“Oh, that sounds sexy,” Molly said in a low voice.

“What did you say?” asked Fjord, leaning forward. As if he hadn’t heard Molly’s words.

“Oh, I was just saying that it sounds difficult,” Molly ‘corrected’ himself.

“Oh, is not that big of a deal!” Fjord straightened up, a smile on his lips, small tusks showing. “Not if you like it, at least. And really, I love my degree.”

_(...He hadn’t actually heard Molly that first time. Amazing._

_Also, that passion for your own degree was something unheard of. Fjord was not only an unexpected project of marine biologist, but also one who was PASSIONATE about it.)_

“And what brings you here, _Fjord_?” Jester rested her head on the palms of her hands.

_(Beau could swear she saw Molly looking at Jester for a quarter of second and he seemed… boggled.)_

“The coffee machine at the cafeteria of my building broke down. And _I need_ a coffee,” Fjord explained shortly, hands now stuck on his pockets. 

“You won’t have to repeat it twice!” Molly stood up so fast he almost knocked the entire table. Thankfully, Beau was already grabbing it. Reflexes, reflexes. “On the house. I’ll make you _the best_ coffee ever.”

“He works here?” Fjord asked Beau.

“I surely do!” Molly beamed. 

“Just when he wants to, though,” Beau added between her teeth. Fjord _definitely_ heard that, because he chuckled. 

Aaaand Molly couldn’t argue to that. 

“Well, if your coffee is that good, I might drop by more frequently. But please, let me pay,” Fjord said, already taking out his wallet.

Beau’s phone buzzed on top of the table. Jester made obvious gestures with her face towards it. Molly was more worried about flashing his best smile at Fjord as he lead the half-orc to the counter. Tail swinging and everything. The hell?

_Jester ❤_

hes such ahimbo o mu hod why didnt uou tell us yPU HAD A HIMBO FRIEND

and cNt belive molly got to him firnsj!

also sory im tping withour looking lmao

_Me_

jess we’re sitting right in front of each other you can look your phone

_Jester ❤_

i couldnt do that half a minute ago!

_Me_

actually we can

you know

talk face to face

_Jester ❤_

but this is more fun!

_Me_

...i guess so??

_Jester ❤_

the thing is

beau

and im being serious here

_Me_

yes?

_Jester ❤_

next time you have a secret himbo friend

_Me_

it wasn’t secret???

_Jester ❤_

i call dibs

_Me_

thought you wanted to marry spiderboo

_Jester ❤_

yeah, but in the meantime i can look dreamily at himbos

can’t i?

pleeeeease?

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the feeling this chapter was kinda bland. But I think it was necessary? Also, heeeey, how do you feel about fjolly? Because I Feel Good.  
> (It's something I've been considering for a while, please, don't think I pulled it out of nowhere!! And I Will Listen To Your Opinions.)
> 
> Anyway, it's Been Three Months. Sorry about that. I had, like, one week to breathe (that's when I published the last 2 chapters) and then University Came. And It Was Horrible. Really, between my mental state due to being quarantined and university I barely had strength to?? Do anything?? I still don't know how I managed to finish an almost 2000 pages book I had been dragging for months (Heaven Official's Blessing, if you're curious). At some point I also got into The Magnus Archives and published some Fire Emblem oneshots?? Somehow?? And I've started DMing! That's big, I guess. I'm adapting the Dragon Age TTRPG to DnD 5e because my mind only lets me do that much and It Is Coming Out Surprisingly Well?? Or so my players say.  
> Really. Just don't ask. I don't know how I pull things out. But I do it.  
> And yeah. I played Animal Crossing. I played a lot of Animal Crossing. That was healing. Adopted a dog, that too. Damn, 3 months are a lot of time.
> 
> Also, HEY! CR IS BACK!!! Couldn't be more excited, tbh, been missing the show a lot. Maybe that's what pushed me to finish writing this in the last 2 days.
> 
> Take care, wash your hands and don't go out without your facemask. I already have planned the next chapter (for ONCE), but I don't know (as always) how long it will take me to write it. But be sure: I'll be back!  
> (...That sounded a little bit like a threat, didn't it?)


	6. '@Spiderbooty’ has already 3000 followers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Me
> 
> what if jester knows i’m spiderboo??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIVE (worst experience of my fucking life. Being alive I say. Yeah).
> 
> Again, not betaed, though kudos to Ari (@_ARIenigena) for speed-reading this. I would appreciate if you, dear reader, told me any mistakes you see, though.
> 
> More notes at the end!

"It's a success!"

That was the first thing Jester said to Molly and Beau that morning. 

The blue tiefling had skipped her first class and had, _for the first time_ , ignored Beau's messages.

_(Beau had been close to calling the police. Or better, to get out of class and look for her herself. But she had managed to control herself._

_Plus, something told her Jester was just fine. Just… not answering immediately. For once. It would have been too much to get into trouble two days straight, even for her._

_…And also it was Miss Vysoren's class and, given the looks the professor was giving Beau, it was better for her integrity to stay in class.)_

And then she appeared for their usual midmorning coffee and the first thing she said was that. No context given.

_(Please, give Beau a rest.)_

"...What has been a success?" Molly asked a few seconds after Jester plopped down to her chair.

"The blog, obviously!" She said cheerfully. "What else? I mean, last night my inbox was full of journalists asking to show my video on the news this morning. Also, I trended on Twitter, didn't you see that?" 

Admittedly, Beau hadn't checked her Twitter the prior night. She didn't use Twitter that much. She followed Jester (and her 10k followers), Molly (and his 6.9k followers, 'nice' as he would say, half of them being students from the campus for sure and some people getting occasionally softblocked so Molly could keep the number), Yasha (who hadn't tweeted for more than 3 years and still had 100 followers, somehow) and Caleb (who still had the old Twitter egg as his profile picture and didn't plan to change it. Also, he only retweeted stuff. Boring stuff). 

Only Jester, Molly and Caleb followed her back, being a locked account at all. She still received the weird following petition of bots, but she reported, blocked and moved on. 

Molly, on the other hand—

"Oh, so all that fuss was because of you!" He slapped the table, making Beau jump a little. 

"Of course it was! Didn't you check the hashtag?"

"I was busy and didn't pay much attention, honestly." 

"That's very disappointing coming from THE Mollymauk Tealeaf," Jester shook her head. And yeah, okay, it was a little bit weird coming from Molly. _Knowing_ Molly. "Not even the #SpiderboosNewSuit one? And the #SpiderdorkHasOurHearts? #SpiderbooIsComing?" 

"I was pretty sure the new suit thing had already gotten to the media or something. And really, I had _very_ important things to do!" Molly whined. 

"So, you're trying to woo someone again?" Beau asked. 

"And succeeding!" And oh, Molly looked _so proud_ of himself.

_(It was more than what Beau had done at any point in her terrible romantic life. Woo someone. Huh. Beau had_ tried _. Hard-tried. Still not actually successful. Not on her end. Like, she had had a couple of girlfriends, yes, sure, but that hadn't been thanks to Beauregard's attempts at flirting._

_Molly though? He had a natural talent for that. What an asshole.)_

"Yeah, sure. Succeeding," said Beau, more out of spite than anything.

In return, Molly stuck out his tongue. Classy. 

"Anyway! My followers, like, have triplicated since yesterday," Jester announced. Oh, then it surely was a big thing, given Jester's previous number of followers. "So I would call the Spideyblog a success!" 

"You've named it Spideyblog?" Beau asked, distractedly pulling out her phone. She typed the name on the search bar. 

"It _had_ to be short and simple for people to be able to remember it! It has its appeal," Jester's chest swelled up a little. "And, like, for now it's working, so…" 

"Hey, guys, are you gonna get something to drink or…?" Beau knew _that_ voice. That soft, deep, (not intentional) slightly uninterested tone could only be from Yasha. 

_Yasha._

Beau straightened up in her chair as if she had just received a little shock. 

"Oh, hi, Yasha!" Jester beamed. 

"Hi, Jester. Oh, I saw something yesterday, on Twitter…? About you?" 

"Yeah! Wow, you guys, even Yasha has _heard_ about it, how come you didn't?" 

Wait, wait. So, did that _imply_ that Yasha still checked her Twitter account despite not really tweeting anything? 

… 

Beau had just been found dead in a ditch. 

"I told you, I was busy!" Molly whined. "And Yasha, bring me a berry blend tea, would you?" 

"Are you planning to pay for it?" Yasha asked as she wrote it down on her small notepad. If Molly asked for tea, he always asked for _that specific tea_ (they probably only bought it for him). But in spite of that not being a difficult order, Yasha's mind was keen to wander off. 

So, really. She had to write down everything. 

_(Something adorable, if you asked Beau's currently blank mind.)_

"We'll discover it at the end of the day!" Molly announced. 

"Gotcha. Anything for you, girls? Jester? Beauregard?" 

_(Oh, wow. Her name indeed sounded beautiful when Yasha pronounced it. Beauregard. And it was a horrible name, not gonna lie. Too… pompous. Yeah.)_

"Coffee for me, please! But, like, with lots of milk, 4 spoons of sugar and cocoa and almost no coffee—" 

"Hot cocoa for Jester, alright," Yasha mumbled as she wrote it down. Jester didn't even correct her. Because Yasha was right. 

_(They had been there before. Jester WANTED hot cocoa, not coffee.)_

"...regard? Hey, Beauregard, are you okay?" It took Beau a couple of seconds to get back to reality. And a slap on the back, thanks, Jester. 

"Ah! Uh. Eh. Yeah," wow, her mouth was so dry all of a sudden, "I would. Uh. Like to. Ah." 

"Black coffee for her. Tall," Jester completed. 

"Yeah. That. Uh."

"Great, I'll be back soon," and with a little small that didn't at all melt Beau's brain (as if it was of any use to her), Yasha took a turn towards the counter. 

Now, Beau was looking at Jester. Like, really looking at her. She didn't even wait to observe how Yasha made all the way to Bosun. She wasn't able to see either the weird look that Molly was giving her.

"How did you know I wanted that?" Beau asked. There really weren't more thoughts on her brain at that exact moment. 

"Oh? I mean, like, you look like you _need_ a coffee right now," Jester said simply. 

"So do I look tired?" 

"Hmmm, no, not really," Jester shook her head. "You just do. Look like it, that is! And you always want your coffee black, so… Yeah, a tall cup would make you a lot of good right now," and without further explanation, Jester came back to rambling about her new super famous blog. 

But Beau wasn't listening, and she knew she probably would regret that later. Everything about Spiderboo was her business, obviously. But she couldn't bring herself to care for that right then. 

Something about how Jester had just… guessed right, how the words had come out of her mouth so naturally, so surely, had struck Beau. She knew Jester knew her quite well, yes, but that well? In a situation in which Beau hadn't even begun to say what she wanted to drink or eat or whatever? Yet Jester had known what was going to be her order. 

Huh. 

Oh, gosh, if Jester was that perceptive, was it possible for her to have guessed already she was Spiderboo? Or was Beau just too easy to read? Had it been that obvious that she wanted a tall black coffee? Had it? 

But wait, fuck, go back, go back. What if, and only _what if_ , Jester knew already? What if it was so obvious for her that Beau was Spiderboo that she didn't want to make Beau feel bad by just asking her straight away? Or, well, _confirming it,_ straight away, if it was that obvious. 

Beau pulled out her phone and opened Molly’s chat.

_(She needed a little bit of reassurance there.)_

_Me_

molly

mollyyyyyyy

“Hey, Molly, your phone is buzzing,” Beau interrupted as Molly’s phone vibrated on top of the table. “Please, Jes, go on.”

“As I was saying!” Jester said, not even bothered, “it’s not just that Spiderboo is a superheroine, it’s that—”

Molly? Molly was looking at Beau dead in the eye as he unlocked his phone.

_mollyfuck_

what

_Me_

what if jester knows i’m spiderboo??

_mollyfuck_

???

have you told her or smth?

_Me_

no

_mollyfuck_

are you planning on doing so???

_Me_

no

_mollyfuck_

then??

are you listening to her???

_Me_

,,no

_mollyfuck_

you dumbfuck

_Me_

well thank you

_mollyfuck_

no, but seriously

iF YOU WERE LISTENING instead of letting your brain get into a fucking trainwreck you would notice that jester has NO FUCKING clue of whos spiderboo

that or shes the best damn actress ever

give her an oskar already

but we both know thats not the case

damn she isnt even realizing were talking to each other rn

“Your coffee, Beauregard,” Yasha’s voice came so out of the blue it didn’t give Beau time to get nervous over the closeness of her crush.

_(She was already pretty altered due to Jester.)_

“And Jester…”

“Cocoa! Give me!” Jester made grabby hands towards the cup of hot cocoa Yasha still had on the tray.

_(Jester was pretty cute when she did that, if Beau had to be honest.)_

“Here you have,” Beau wasn’t looking at Yasha at that moment, her eyes still fixed on her phone, but she could hear the smile in her voice.

_(*Gasp*_

_Beau wished that smile was for her._

_“That’s difficult considering you’re not even looking up,” said her brain cell, sitting on a sofa as it distractedly read the newspaper of the day. Oh, well, at least it seemed comfortable, that meant it wasn’t moving out soon, right?_

_...Glad to know that._

_“You still aren’t looking up, though,” the brain cell insisted._

_Oh, shit_ — _)_

When Beau’s body finally responded and looked up Yasha was already on the other end of the cafeteria.

_(“Sucker,” said that little bitch Beau had for a brain cell.)_

Well, now that Beau’s inability to function had been left out in the open, she could go back to her conversation with Molly.

_mollyfuck_

beau

beau yasha is talking to you

whats WRONG with you

awww jes

beau darling honey my friend let me tell you something

youre dead inside

_Me_

yeah dude no shit

_mollyfuck_

ITS ALIVEEEEEEE

_Me_

dude

_mollyfuck_

okay okay sorry

anyway going baCK to where we left it

yeah no jes doesnt seem to know it

if you want my expert opinion

_Me_

expert??

_mollyfuck_

which i guess you do or you wouldnt have asked

are you suggesting im not an expert??? to my FACE???

_Me_

*mobile screen

_mollyfuck_

TO MY FACE????

Beau exited the conversation and looked up just to see a pout in Molly’s face. He then mouthed a very clear _‘TO MY FACE?’_

“Molly, is something wrong? Are you not interested in why I think Spiderboo has the best ass in Zadash?” Jester asked out loud.

“What?!” And _oh, Molly sounded OUTRAGED by that_ , “what about MY ass?”

Oh. He gave Beau a quick look. And _oh_ , then Beau realized Jester _was talking about her butt._

_(Was her butt… a nice butt? She could accept that. But THE best butt in Zadash? Wasn’t that taking it a little bit too far?)_

“I was joking!” Jester laughed.

Oh.

_(Oh.)_

“I just noticed you weren’t paying attention to me!” She continued. “Still wooing?”

“...Yes. Still wooing,” Molly answered slowly.

_(Wow, not the best liar, precisely.)_

“Anyway, yes, Molly, your ass is still Zadash’s best ass. I might even say it’s the best in, like, all of Wildemount!” a small ‘ _yes_ ’ accompanied by a victory gesture came from Molly. “But! Spiderboo’s ass is still very nice. Look! Someone made an account on twitter about it...”

What.

_(What.)_

“It only has a screenshot from my video, though, but it’s just a matter of time…”

“Oh, wow,” Molly laughed, not even hiding it, as he grabbed Jester’s phone. “ _‘@spiderbooty’_ has already 3000 followers, amazing.”

“Bullshit,” Beau jumped out of her seat while grabbing her cup of coffee just in time so it didn’t spill, and then took Jester’s phone from Molly’s hands.

But oh, it was _true_ . There was now a twitter account dedicated to Spiderboo’s ass. _Beau’s ass_.

And it obviously had far more followers than Beau’s account (which wasn’t difficult, but STILL).

She reloaded the profile unconsciously and saw how the account jumped from having 3127 followers to having 3782 followers.

Maybe that was when reality _actually_ hit Beau.

The people were _seeing_ her booty because they were _interested_ in Spiderboo. They were _actually_ interested in—

Beau had fans. Spiderboo had fans.

Oh, fuck, _she was famous._

  
  


\---

  
  


A couple of days had gone by since the booty account had been created and there were already 9000 people following it. Beau was one of them, admittedly. During those days she had been able to see different blurry photos of her ass as she swung through the city.

_(The account had opened its DMs. “Submissions are allowed!!”. Chaos ensued.)_

She was so focused on not crashing into a building that of course she didn't realize about the pedestrians that pulled out their phone cameras and snapped a picture of dubious quality of her ass.

_(The account counted with the grand total of 12 photos. Which were too many, if you asked Beau. How had people been able to snatch 11 photos of her ass in the span of 2 days and a half?_

_Anyways.)_

Also, she really didn’t pay attention to people with their mobiles because her enhanced senses were trying to find any sign of trouble wherever she went (that is, apart from saving from crashing and yadda, yadda, yadda).

That’s how it happened.

Beau was stuck to a wall of one of the buildings near the center of the Tri-Spires district when that scratchy feeling in the back of her neck told her to _look up_ , and so she did.

It was there. _They_ were there. The unfocused one.

Beau knew immediately it was the same person even though this time they were wearing bright white clothes, again from head to toe. The ominous white mask covering their face.

And there it was, the headache. _That horrible headache._

Beau didn’t know if it was her instincts kicking in or the surprise what made her jump from the wall to the street behind and below her, but the thing is that she did just that, only to turn in the air a second later and shoot some webs to slow her fall.

She still landed on top of an occupied car with a messy roll, to finally tumble to the pavement, the car itself barely hitting the brakes in time before running over her.

“SORRY! SORRY,” before even a cry of pain could get out of her mouth, Beau was already trying to get up and apologize to the owner of the vehicle.

Her back hurt, though. A fucking lot, although something told Beau it would have been worse if she didn’t have her superpowers. As in, she would probably be dead already.

“Don’t worry! Be careful next time! Or at least I would be grateful if you warned me first,” Said the owner of the vehicle, and okay, that voice sounded slightly familiar—ah.

Oh.

What were the odds of having fallen _on top of Mr. Clay’s car?_ Because there he was, all hunched down on his too-small car (the wage of a university professor wasn't that good, apparently) with his long pink hair adorned with the usual braids and his big pink eyes and _ugh—_

“Mmmmm—” Beau was _really_ about to say Mr. Clay, but just pronounced a veeery long ‘m’, “motherfucking shitballs, sorry!"

That had been Jester talking, not Beau. 

_(Her influence, ugh.)_

Maybe it was the honks of the cars that had had to stop behind Mr. Clay's vehicle what made Beau remember that the situation had seemed _kinda dire_ just a few seconds ago. 

Or maybe it was that scratchy feeling again, followed by the already growing headache that was still there. 

Beauregard turned around just when the unfocused figure landed in the middle of the street as if it was nothing, at about 5 meters from Beau's current position. 

The world seemed to stop as everything seemed to _shake_ around Beau just by the action of looking at the figure. No, not at the figure. At the mask. 

" _GIVE IT BACK,_ " and with those oh-so confusing but familiar words, the figure threw herself against Beau. 

But Beau, for once, was waiting. 

Not without great difficulty, Beau dodged and stopped the majority of the kicks and punches the unfocused figure was throwing at her. Beau had to step back on a couple of occasions, eventually having to step on top of Mr. Clay's car again.

"Sorry, sorry, SORRY," Beau quickly apologized as she felt the windshield crack a little bit more below her feet while shooting (and missing) a web against that _damned fucking mask_. 

"My insurance probably covers it, it's okay!" She heard Mr. Clay say, who thankfully had quickly stepped out of his car a couple of seconds after the figure dropped from the sky. 

_(Anyone else would have been fucking MAD over the situation what the hell Mr. Clay.)_

Another web, and another, and another, and dodge, and try to punch that mask, get grabbed by the arm, get thrown to the pavement with an impressive hold and too much strength.

Breath out of lungs. Head spinning. Brain hurts. Eyes hurt. Back hurts.

Stand up, back in the game. 

" _GIVE. THEM. BACK,"_ the figure threw themselves again against Beau. 

Beau, who didn't think, just stopped the hit short when she grabbed the person by their fists. First one, then the other came when the figure realized the first one had been stopped. 

"I. DON'T. KNOW. WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!" Beau's voice trembled quite a lot when she uttered that.

" _WHATEVER IT IS, GIVE THEM BACK,"_ was the figure response. 

_(..._

_Whatever it is…?)_

"WHAT?" Pushing with all her might and trying to not look directly at the figure, Beau pushed her back and shoot a web at her that actually hit her. 

But it didn't do much. 

(That bitch didn't even know what Beau had to "give back" but was expecting Beau to know it? The hell?) 

The figure was quick to break the single web Beau had managed to shoot at them. The effect of their words had arrived with delay to Beau's brain, and the single second in which she had frozen had been crucial to the figure to regain their ground.

At least for now their fight seemed slightly more even than the prior time, maybe because Beau was at least familiar with what she was facing. 

The downside was that she wasn't going to be able to run away that time. Not like she did all those nights ago. 

She just had to keep trying. 

_(But fuck, her head, her back, her arms, everything hurt so bad.)_

_"GIVE THEM BACK OR I'LL TAKE THEM FROM YOU,"_ said the figure, adopting once again a fighting stance.

_("Huh—")_

"OH, LIKE YOU WEREN'T TRYING TO DO THAT ALREADY?!" Beau croaked out, voice raspy. 

" _YOU DON'T KNOW YET WHAT AM I CAPABLE OF."_

"Oh, they talk and all," Beau mumbled and adopted a classic defensive position.

She knew trying to attack them in her situation was pointless and counterproductive. Beau _wasn't_ at their level, she was injured, her head was fucking _throbbing_ and she was in no position to run. 

_(Although the figure didn't look interested in fighting or hurting anyone other than Spiderboo, so maybe the people in the street were safe if Beau—)_

_"YOU— THIS HASN'T ENDED,"_ and without waiting for Beau to process _that_ (what the hell?), the figure relaxed their position, turned around, and started to _run the fuck away_. 

Beau just stood there, unable to process, too tired to run after them, too dumbstruck to _run after them_.

And then, everything started to clear around her.

People, she was surrounded by people. They had been maintaining some distance, sure, but they were there. Looking. Some phones out, recording. Some screams, some gasps, nothing distinguishable. Mr. Clay was the one who stood the closest, and he seemed like he wanted to get close and help her somehow, he made that same face in class when he was about to take your small charcoal and draw a few lines for you.

There were also honks coming from down the street, people trapped in their cars who had no idea of what had just transpired. Angry voices, that too.

And sirens. Coming in from the wrong way, some police cars approached at high speed. 

_(Oh, that had to be what had alerted the figure, what had actually made them run away._

_Guess guns were scarier than webs.)_

It was a lot to take in at once, even more in Beau's current state. 

But finally, her muscles relaxed. 

"Excuse me! E-excuse me!" A voice raised itself above everything else, and Beau saw how that familiar half-elven woman with short red hair who was partially guilty for Beau being known as 'Spiderboo' rushed towards her followed by a big goliath carrying a TV camera. 

"Oh, no," Beau was about to turn around and _flee_ but the half-elf cut her step. 

"Wait! Grog, turn off the camera!" She sounded breathless. 

"But—" 

"Do that!" The goliath seemed to fumble for a few seconds but the red dot that indicated that the camera was on turned off. The woman almost didn't wait for this to happen before saying: "Hi! Keyleth Vessar. VM news. I know it's not the best time and you surely want to flee or go to the hospital or whatever but _I need to interview you_. Not now! Somewhere. Sometime. Soon. You say place and time. I'll be there. Just me. And, well, Grog," she made a gesture towards her cameraman. 

"Bidet!" The goliath man said with a _big_ smile and a movement of his big right hand. 

_(Wait had he just really said 'bidet' or Beau had heard wrong? She had had to hear wrong, there was too much noise around them.)_

"Good guy, don't mind him! Anyway! Please just tell me a time and place. Please, please, please…" 

And, yep. Okay. These were too many things for such a period of time.

"I— Wha—" 

"Just give me something! Even if you later think about it better and decide you don't want an interview. It's okay, won't get mad, but honestly, after this mess, you have some explanations to give and—" 

"Roof of the Pillow Trove. 5 pm, the day after tomorrow," Beau blurted out. 

"—And —Oh, wait, really?" But Beau didn't stop to confirm it to her because the police cars had just stopped five meters from them. 

So she turned around, body hurting but mind numb, and prepared herself to give her best to mislead whoever and whatever tried to follow her before making her way to Molly's apartment. 

  
  


\---

  
  


"Fucking— What the hell, Beau?" Molly opened the door not a second later Beau had knocked at it. 

After swinging around the city with no direction for 15 minutes, Beau had first had to go where she had hidden her backpack (a dumpster in a back alley in the Pentamarket had been her chosen spot that day) and change back to her usual clothes, shoving her suit inside the bag without even looking at it. _Then_ she had made her way to Molly's apartment.

“Yeah, mood,” was Beau’s croaked response as she closed the door behind her. Molly grabbed her arm and took her to the living room, from where the faint murmur of the TV could be heard.

“Fuck, Beau, darling, what happened?” The two of them plopped down on the sofa, Molly’s worry growing per second on his face. “It’s all over the news! Damn, you—”

“Shhh,” Beau closed her eyes for a second. At least the head pain had mostly subsided. But still, too much. “Help me with my back, then we’ll talk.”

Molly didn’t even try to argue that. He stood up and went straight to the bathroom to look for the first-aid kit (he _had_ to have one, right?) while Beau removed her hoodie, only her sports bra on.

_(She was pretty sure it was stained with a little bit of blood on the back, though.)_

As she heard Molly rummage through the bathroom, Beau started to pay attention to the TV. The gist of it was that Spiderboo had been part of an altercation in the city center along with an unknown figure that was just seen as a blur in the videos taken by the witnesses. The witnesses, who were largely confused but, apparently, more inclined to believe that Spiderboo had done nothing wrong.

Also, curiously, all the people present had talked about having a strange headache that didn’t go away.

_(So, of course, it wasn’t just Beau_ . _)_

Then Mr. Clay was on TV, being interviewed by a voice that Beau recognized as the one from the half-elven woman. 

_(Keyleth Vessar, was it?)_

_“Oh, she was just defending herself. I mean, she kinda destroyed my car, but it’s okay, I’ve already called my insurance, and it was not on purpose. She apologized a lot about it. Anyway, it was not Spiderboo’s fault. It was just bad. The situation.”_

Oh, Mr. Clay, as good at explaining as always. At least he was trying to defend Spiderboo.

“Isn’t that your professor?” Molly asked coming back in with a shoebox filled with basic medical supplies.

“Yep. Yes, he is,” Beau sighed. Molly left the shoebox on top of the coffee table and sat again beside Beau without further comment.

The TV then proceeded to show some of the recorded footage, and yep, there was just a white blur fighting against Spiderboo.

“Turn around,” Molly ordered, “and start talking.”

So, Beau talked.

She started from the beginning. Well, not the “beginning-beginning”, she actually spoke of the night she fought that… blur of a person for the first time. Molly grabbed a gauze to clean the small scratches she had received when she had been thrown to the pavement. Little could do Molly about the big black bruise that was already forming on her back from when she had hit Mr. Clay’s car, anyway.

Beau related her escape and how she really hadn’t been able to give it too much thought, having as little information as she had, being approached like that from the very first moment. 

_(Also, she had been kinda anxious on the side by not being able to be Spiderboo for a week.)_

Then, she started to explain what had happened about an hour before.

  
“What the _hell,_ ” was Molly’s first response.

“Yeah, accurate.”

“This is all just… weird as hell.”  
  
“You’re telling me, really?”

“Yeah, fuck, I mean… They could ask _nicely_ , at least. And explain themselves and all,” Molly snorted.

“Too easy. And I think they are already asking _‘nicely’_ ,” said Beau, remembering the person had said that Beau ‘didn’t know what they were capable of yet’, being _yet_ the keyword.

_(They were nicely kicking the shit out of Beau, apparently.)_

Finally, the program on the TV stopped talking about Spiderboo and jumped to that incident that had happened about two weeks before in Port Damali, some kind of explosion in the city center.

_(Yeah, even Beau had ended up getting the gist of it, that piece of news was everywhere. Many people had been harmed, a couple of deaths had occurred, and no one could find the culprit nor the motive.)_

“And you didn’t think of escaping this time too?”

“It didn’t seem like a possibility,” Beau was about to shrug but _ouch_. “At the moment it was more of an _‘oh, it will surely try to follow me, and they are faster than me’_ but, duh, _I have spiderwebs_. Because clearly they didn’t intend to attack any civilians. Still, thinking about it I’m not so sure escaping would have been a good idea,” she spilled out as the thoughts came to her head.

“Why is that?”

“Neither of the two times I fought them the fight started precisely in a small building. They had to have some way to make it all the way up to the Pillow Trove roof, very possibly without being seen. And fastly,” Beau added.

_(They couldn’t just be sitting around in a random roof every freaking day waiting for Spiderboo to appear, right?)_

“It would make sense. Also, I guess it’s a thing, you never backing off from a fight.”

“Huh?” Beau straightened up and turned to look at Molly.

_(Ouch, her back.)_

“It’s kind of the vibe you give, you know? You just don’t give up on anything nor everyone,” Molly shrugged. “In other words, you’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

“Wow, thanks, dude.”

“It was a compliment, I swear!” Molly stood up with a laugh. “I’m gonna get some ice for your back. It won’t do wonders, but it will help.”

“Oh, wait, there’s something else,” Beau said before Molly could even start walking.

“Yes?”

“A reporter came to where I was. Keyleth Vessar. She wanted an interview.”

“And you did not give it to her,” Molly said.

“No, but yes. Yes, but no,” Beau shook her head. “She told me she wanted to interview me, but it didn’t have to be _now_. She asked me to give her a time and place, even if I decided I didn’t want to appear later. As in, she, her camera, and me alone. As in, ‘hey, we just have 30 seconds to ask you this, you tell us but if you regret it later you can always cancel and not tell me’? That’s the vibe I got.”

“And you told her…?”

“I didn’t have much time to think, so I gave her a time and place. Also, she made a point when she said that I would probably have to explain _this_ . Or _part_ of this,” Beau scratched the back of her neck.

Molly stood there in silence for a couple of seconds before talking.

“If I were you, I would go. You can do whatever you want, of course, but yeah, she made a point. Plus, if you’re ever going to give an interview, it better be on your terms. That Keyleth Vessar seems clever. But if she shows up accompanied you can just—”

“Turn around and get the fuck out of there,” Beau completed.

It made sense.

“That’s my superheroine,” Molly did the double pistols gesture accompanied by a wink before turning around and finally making his way to the kitchen.

Oh, and then was when the door to Molly’s apartment opened.

“Molly?” The unmistakable voice of Yasha said. “Are you home? I think I left my sneakers in my room...”

…

_(Fuck, shit, FUCK.)_

“A-ah, Yasha, don’t go into the living room—” said Molly, as Yasha entered _said_ living room and Beau tried to jump behind the sofa.

“Oh, Beau? What are you— Oh, gosh, are you okay?” Beau froze, her back exposed to her as she was already one leg behind the sofa. “Also, what are you doing? Don’t jump behind the sofa…”

“Uuuuuh…” very slowly, Beau rewinded her movements and turned towards Yasha. “I was… I didn’t—”

“Your back looks bad, what happened?” But apparently, Yasha’s worry was bigger than her curiosity about what was Beau doing at Molly’s apartment with no shirt on and also why was she trying to hide behind the sofa.

“I… fell,” Beau said simply, staring blankly at Yasha. That wasn’t a lie.

Her current crush was standing there, black hoodie and grey sweatpants, hair messy and looking both confused and worried. Molly appeared shortly after carrying a bunch of small bags with ice, mouth open and a little frown on his face.

“It must have been a bad fall, then,” then she turned towards Molly and saw the ice bags. “Oh, and you’re helping her. Let me help too.”

“I-it’s not necessary…” Beau started, babbling a little.

“I was doing fine on my own,” said Molly at the same time.

But Yasha had already taken two of Molly’s bags out of his arms.

Before Beau knew what was happening she was lying down on the sofa, face buried into a cushion, ice bags pressed all over her back, Yasha and Molly by her side.

And okay, she had to admit that the moment Yasha touched her back she had begun to feel better. And the ice bags were doing its job.

Now, Yasha wasn’t asking more questions about it. She had just carefully touched Beau’s back to figuring out where she was hurting more and then she had gotten ice bags wherever the pain was worse.

_(But honestly? Just with the touch of her fingers Beau had started to feel better._

_The power of endorphins was amazing.)_

At some point, Yasha and Molly had begun to talk between each other, but by then Beau had completely disconnected.

The headache was still there, and she was certainly tired. And so, her mind drifted away soon enough.

  
  


\---

  
  


“Is she asleep?” Yasha asked all of a sudden.

“I… think so,” Molly confirmed. Beau’s back was rising and falling rhythmically, at a slow pace, so it was very likely.

_(Poor child, she needed a rest. Or a couple of rests, at least.)_

Maybe he hadn’t shown it that much (to not worry her friend), but Molly was seriously worried about the whole superheroine thing, and now more than ever. He didn’t mind that his suit had been slightly damaged in that fight, no. He could fix it that night and bring it back to Beau at university tomorrow, clean and all. 

“Damn, it must have been a rough fall, don’t you think?” Yasha said.

“Yeah…” Molly agreed. Overall, Yasha never asked too many questions, but right now she was just straight up assuming Molly didn’t know what had happened to Beau either.

It was better that way, though.

“Do you think she’s lying to us…?”

“No. She definitely fell,” Molly shook his head. “I can’t think how else she could have made such a mess out of her back.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right…” Yasha sighed. “Anyway, if she’s resting now, I’ll just get my sneakers and go back to my apartment. I need to— You know, stuff—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, don’t worry,” Molly was fast to cut her. Yasha gave him a sweet smile. She was grateful for not having to explain anything. And it was okay with Molly, really. If Yasha needed space and time alone every once in a while, doing whatever she needed to do, it was okay with Molly. No explanations needed.

_(Unless she was hurting herself, but Molly knew for a fact that Yasha wasn’t doing anything like that.)_

And with that, Yasha stood up and went to where her room was. Thankfully Molly had already cleaned the mess he had created while making Spiderboo’s suit.

Okay.

Now that Yasha wasn’t around Molly could _really_ give a thought to what Yasha had _apparently_ just done.

It had been almost imperceptible. If Molly hadn't been a quite perceptive person, he would have missed it too. But the thing was that, when Yasha’s hands had touched Beau’s back, it had _glowed_.

As in, faint white light surrounding Yasha’s fingers.

And okay, it _might_ have been Molly’s imagination, but the thing was that last time he had checked, Beau’s scratches looked completely gone, and the big black bruise was not so black anymore and more of a yellowish tone.

Just as a bruise which is healing.

Maybe the whole shooting webs thing came with regeneration powers, but it took Molly a lot to believe the healing had been entirely a Beau thing considering her back had been looking fucking bad when she arrived, around an hour later after the incident _but_ it had started looking a lot better a minute after Yasha had touched her.

_With fucking glowing hands_.

“Hey, Yasha?” Molly asked out loud, looking at the void.

“Yes?” She responded while probably looking for her sneakers.

“Do your hands glow and, like, heal things?” Molly asked.

“Not that I know!” Was Yasha’s answer, and _gosh, she sounded as honest as she could sound_. “Why?”

It was very easy to know if Yasha was lying. Too easy. She was telling the truth.

“Just a thought!” Molly said flippantly.

“Oh, okay.”

And it really was that easy with Yasha. Amazing.

Anyway, her response didn’t get the thought out of Molly’s head. Not at all. He knew what he had seen, although Yasha may sincerely don’t know what he was talking about (incredible but entirely possible).

Molly was going to have to do some digging on his own, it seemed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The actual twitter account @spiderbooty has been inactive since 2012 and that somehow outrages me.
> 
> Anyways! This chapter didn't end up being like I had planned at all. Like, I started to digress a lot (the whole butt/ass thing was improvised don't @ me). Then the things just went downhill, I guess? Caduceus wasn't going to appear here, the scene at Molly's house wasn't a thing either, and We Don't Talk About Yasha. But the thing is, it came out quite alright, don't you think? I think this is even better than what I had planned, so kudos to me?? Even more kudos to me knowing I've been at my worst these last weeks (but I'm better now!! *pats herself on the back because she deserves it*).
> 
> Also last night I decided that in this fic Fjord is a trans man and honestly I'm surprised at myself for not having made that decision earlier because I have that headcanon but SOMEHOW it hadn't crashed into this fic because I conceived those two things in separate??? Places??? In my brain??? Don't know if it's going to be mentioned at some point because is not like something plot-relevant or anything, but I just wanted to. Leave it here. Yeah. Transmasc himbo Fjord rights! (Oooh but you cannot take that kind of decision in the middle of the fic- Shut up, my fic, my rules, Fjord has been trans all along and will be trans until the end of the fic whether it is mentioned or not).  
> This just in, do you really THINK I have this whole thing planned? Bitch I fucking wished *actually, she's crying as she says this*
> 
> Take care, wash your hands and don't go out without your facemask, my friends. I have yet to start planning the next chapter, but I think I know where this is going!! Still, it will take me A While. I Just Know It.


	7. How old was Caduceus Clay again?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But forgive my digression, Miss Lionett," Mr. Clay went on. "My question was formulated out of pure curiosity. I'm often told that mentally I seem so much older than I really am, so I was wondering how a person with a young mind would answer one of the questions I ask to myself daily."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK, but not... too much? My classes started again and I'm kinda dying inside (my last university year!!! If I pass everything lol)
> 
> Again, not betaed, though kudos to Ari (@_ARIenigena) for speed-reading this. I would appreciate if you, dear reader, told me any mistakes you see, though.
> 
> More notes at the end!

To Beau's astonishment, she felt a lot better after waking up on Molly's sofa.

_"You slept for 4 hours_ , had said Molly, _"but something tells me you'll get home and fall asleep as soon as you touch your bed."_

And indeed that was what had happened. 

Or what would have happened if Veth (Nott, ugh) hadn't been just waiting for her (basically full-on camping, pillows and a blanket and even a bag full of marshmallows) in front of the elevator. 

"Oh my fucking gosh, Beau, you're alive!" Her characteristic strident voice ringed in Beau's ears (and in the whole building, really). 

"Shhhh," that was exactly Beau's first instinct. "Can't you be quieter? My head still hurts a little bit." 

"Oh. Sorry," Veth covered her mouth with one hand in a sudden movement. Her next words came out muffled. "Come in, you have to tell me _everything_."

And that had been how Beau had ended up relating the events of the afternoon _yet again_. 

_(She wasn't too into reliving the experience, that was for sure. Yet, Beau had to admit that voicing something out loud made it more real and somehow easier to assimilate and structure for her own brain.)_

"...And you went to Molly before thinking about coming here?"

And yep, that's the first thing that had come out of Veth's mouth. Fantastic. 

"Look, Nott—" Beau was massaging the bridge of her nose. Too tired. "I was tired. Still tired. And his apartment was closer to the place in which I had left my backpack. Also, the suit was torn in some places. In the back. It's _his_ suit, he fixes it." 

That hadn't been the complete truth, though. If her sense of direction didn't fail her, Beau was _kinda_ sure that Veth's apartment had been slightly closer than Molly's.

She hadn't been thinking straight (for obvious reasons. As in, she had just gotten beaten up, nothing to do with Beau being a lesbian) at the moment, that was the truth. Beau's first instinct had been to make her way to Molly's house, not to Veth's, and that's what she had done.

_(But a small white lie would hurt Veth less. It wasn't as if Beau was trying to replace her. Not intentionally at least.)_

"I can sew too, you know?" Was what Veth answered. 

"That's highly debatable," and oh, _it was_. 

"Okay, okay. Fine," Veth slumped forward on the table at where they both were sitting. She didn't behave her age most of the time, honestly. "I understand why you went there. I just… I was worried." 

"I know," Beau sighed. Like, that much was obvious. 

"Next time you face your nemesis, please at least send me a TalksApp?"

"If I haven't forgotten my phone—" 

"Oh, for fucks sake, just glue it to your hand already!" Veth straightened up, and okay, there might have been some seriousness in her words, but it still came out dressed in laughs. "With your web thingy or something, I don't know." 

"Not gonna do that." 

"Then don't forget your fucking phone!" Heck, Veth's voice rang like a fucking drill on Beau's mind. 

It wasn't Veth's fault to have that voice. Beau's current state wasn't Veth's fault, either. 

_(Also, wasn't she afraid of waking up her husband? Or her son?_

_Or, wait a second, they were probably used to Veth's antics and were able to sleep through them. Which also meant they were able to sleep through a war.)_

"I'll tryyyy," was Beau's only response.

“Oh, that’s enough,” Nott accepted. “But anyway! Your nemesis!”

“Not again…” Beau sighed, her forehead hitting the table. 

“Your archenemy!”

“Nooooo,” Beau’s voice came out kind of muffled as she buried her head between her arms. Her shoulders shook a little. Okay, maybe she was being too dramatic on purpose, but she just wanted to go home and sleep. Having once again that conversation with Nott wasn’t something she wanted to do right then.

_(Although yeah, maybe NottVeth was right, maybe that person was her nemesis. Beau wasn’t about to give it more thought right then.)_

Thankfully, Nott felt sorry enough for her to let the topic go. And _then_ she had been allowed to get home, say "hey" to Caleb, get a "hallo" in response, scratch Frumpkin's head, get a soft "meow", and only after all that she went to bed and got her well-deserved sleep.

Beau liked to think it was deserved, at least. Also, she should have probably had had some dinner, but nothing could have gotten in her way to hug her bed. 

Except for her flatmate. And their cat. Or her flatmate's cat. Caleb had officially adopted Frumpkin, as (surprisingly) he wasn't chipped, and no one seemed to be claiming him. 

Surprisingly, Beau was feeling quite good the next morning. As in, she still felt a little sore, but she had looked at herself in the mirror and the wounds seemed to be completely gone. There weren't even scars left, which was quite amazing. 

Wow, Molly and Yasha had done a damn good job. Still, Beau's healing powers were quite impressive. 

_(Apparently. This just in, her body regenerated like crazy. Try to tell that to an actual spider, though.)_

So, Beau went to class. Everything was fine. Molly had messaged her while she was on the bus and told her to swing by (ha-ha, _swing by_ , so funny Molly) by his apartment that afternoon, as the suit was still drying.

_mollyfuck_

its too cold outside

winter can eat my ass

_Me_

zadash is not a humid city though???

_mollyfuck_

I KNOW

but this fabric takes too long to dry, apparently

or longer tHAN I EXPECTED AT LEAST

_Me_

molly

_mollyfuck_

also i guess it has to do with the fact that i cannot hANG IT OUT ON MY TINY ASS BALCONY BECAUSE *EVERYONE* WOULD BE ABLE TO SEE IT

_Me_

mooollyyyyy

_mollyfuck_

hey beau now that you're doing an interview

idk

ask on national tv for a dryer

thats how it works right i mean SOMEONE might be able to buy me a dryer

well buy you a dryer

buy us a dryer?

nah, buy ME a dryer fuck you i deserve it

_Me_

i mean I GUESS you deserve a dryer

_mollyfuck_

you only GUESS????

_Me_

but anyway can't you, like, use a hairdryer to speed up the process?? 

_mollyfuck_

bitch what do you think ive been doing since you left

(dont worry i slept)

Beau had gotten to class quite soon after that, and Molly had to start working anyway, so the suit would have to dry _on its own._

_(Maybe it was just a shy suit. Maybe it just needed privacy to be able to dry._

_"That's the most random thought you've had in a long while. Wow," the brain-cell said. "Congrats, I guess…?")_

"Hey, is… Beauregard Lionett in here?" The class fell silent when the white-haired, dark-skinned girl opened the door to the classroom and said those words. "I've been told it was here… Ah." 

_'Ah,'_ as in, 90% of the people present were looking straight at Beau. 

_(Normally not even the 40% of your university class knew your fucking name, and yet there was Beau!_

_She didn't know if it was good or bad, all of them knowing her name._

_…_

_Bad, it was definitely bad.)_

But, yeah, okay! She had been talking to Jester, chilling, joking with her about the fact that Mr. Clay was running late for the first time (although Beau was _slightly worried_ about it, given the circumstances of the prior day. Jester knew too, though, but she didn't look worried) just as the rest of the class (who very much also had seen Mr. Caduceus Clay on the TV the prior day).

_(And hey, if he got to class 20 minutes late it was free real estate, they could all pack their stuff and go away. The fist of all the unwritten rules of the university student.)_

And _of fucking course_ they were talking about Spiderboo too.

_(Beau was trying to not pay much attention to those comments. She knew it was easy for those to get into her head and… well, they could eat her up pretty fast. Perhaps they didn't. Beau wasn't about to risk it._

_Maybe she had the habit of looking up her name on social media and Noogle, but she knew when to stop reading comments and opinions on her, and it was when she found the first person who sounded unnecessarily mean or the first person who sounded like they were idolizing Spiderboo a little bit too much.)_

Now, she could focus on Jester's comments. She was a little bit too enthusiastic, but she didn't sound like she was completely idolizing Spiderboo. Not in a creepy way, at least. 

_"It's like, you know, I always say she's super cool and all, but I'm also kinda worried? That fight looked tough. Wish I had been there for my blog, though. And also, if Spiderboo turns out to be a bad guy or something —she won't, though— she could still be considered pretty cool, to be honest. But, you know. I'm worried. Hopefully, she'll show up soon again or something."_

_(Not yet, 'cause her fucking suit was still drying!)_

But anyway, there she was! Beau _vaguely_ remembered that girl. Yes, she went to the university gym, and she was cute, and pretty, and hot, and was fucking ripped at the same time. She seemed to irradiate this angelic halo and was always surrounded by a bunch of people. As if she had a fan club or something, but she didn't seem interested in any of them, and just, you know, she did her thing. 

Okay, maybe Beau remembered her more than 'vaguely'. What could she say? She had eyes and she liked girls. She liked girls a whole lot. 

And not this cute girl seemed to be _looking_ _for her_. 

"Yeah, uh… that's me," Beau lifted a hand, the majority of her class still looking at her. 

The face of the girl brightened up. 

"Finally! You see," and without stopping her talk, she made her way to Beau's place in the room, "hi, I'm Reani, vet student, and I go to the university gym and I'm also pretty 'unfocused' or so my friends say, so—" 

"Hi, Reani," said Beau about half an hour later. 

_("Fuck, so stupid."_

_Well, excuse her, Beau worked with a little bit of lag each time she saw a cute girl. It had happened to her even the first time she had seen Jester._

_Probably the second and the third too, she couldn't remember.)_

"Hi, Beauregard!" Beau could hear Jester snickering by her side. "Okay, yeah, I forgot something yesterday so I went straight to the gym like, half an hour ago? And I found this on top of my locker," and just then Beau took notice of the fact that Reani was holding a black backpack. "It has your name written on it, and I thought, _'oh, no, this poor girl is as forgetful as me!'_ So I decided to bring it to you. You're welcome! And don't worry, I haven't looked inside," and she just _shoved_ Beau's not-backpack into Beau's hands. 

Because Beau hadn't seen that backpack in her entire life. It was too new, too shiny, too—

"Okay! Then it's done. See you at the gym, I guess!" And just like that, Reani turned around and a few seconds later she was out of the class. 

And boy, _her entire class_ was snickering under their breaths. They were doing a good job hiding it, but Beau could _hear_ them. 

"Oh, you bought a new backpack and you're already forgetting it?" Jester asked, a tingle of humor on her voice. 

"Ha… haha, yeah," was the only thing Beau could answer. Fuck, she really had to better her improvisation skills. "I couldn't even remember where I had left it… or how did it look." 

"Well, then thank Reani next time you see her! What a kind girl! Now, Beau, if you were buying a new backpack you could have bought one with, like, flowers, or I don't know, what do you like? You like fishies? It could have had fishies. Oh, right, you kinda liked owls! Owls are nice. But if it had been white we could have drawn all over it to make it look pretty…"

Beau wasn't really looking at Jester during those seconds, but she had to recognize her friend was very much endearing. Also, she remembered Beau liked owls. Or, well, liked them better than other animals. She hadn't asked herself why, it was just… that. But not even Beau's parents remembered that, not that it was surprising. They usually didn't even remember her birthday. Coincidentally, if they had to buy her any animal-themed item, they bought her stuff with "fishies", as Jester had called them. 

_(Huh, adorable.)_

It was nice of Jester, to remember that when not a single person remembered. Ever.

But now, back to the matter at hand… No, really, she was basically asphyxiating the backpack with her hands.

Beau opened it _carefully_ , even though her senses weren’t alerting her of immediate danger. Just… just in case, you know? But the zipper slid easily, and finally Beau was able to see the interior of the backpack.

It was (thankfully) empty, except for what seemed to be… a small bottle of pineapple juice? And to it, there was a note attached.

_(“Ah,” said the brain-cell, as Beau was starting to have war flashbacks.)_

Beau pulled out the juice bottle and kept the note inside the backpack, where she opened it just as Mr. Clay finally opened the door to the class.

_“I really thought you would need this, so I took the liberty to buy it for you. Also, you’re doing good work, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise._

_Sincerely,_

_a good friend”_

…

Well, she was giving Jester the juice.

  
  


\---

  
  


“Hey, Beau!” Beau basically jumped when she heard someone call her That someone being Fjord.

_(Fjord talking to her willingly out of the gymnasium and TalksApp?)_

The very green half-orc was waving at her while sitting on one of the benches in front of the biology building. Beau usually didn’t walk around that area, but she was on her way to the bus stop that, according to NoogleMaps, would leave her the closest to Molly’s apartment.

And there he was! The bitch himself! With a black turtleneck sweater that shouldn’t suit him that much! And glasses! Glasses! A book in his hands!

That REALLY couldn’t be the same Fjord Beau knew. Hell no. He looked smart, first of all.

...And yeah, that was it, actually.

_(He was a himbo. Jester’s words, right?)_

“Beau! Beauregard!” Fjord called her again. With a small sigh, Beau approached the bench. 

“Hey, haven’t you heard me the first time? Also, two backpacks…?”

(There he was, his fake drawl and—) 

“Uh… no, no, I had seen you, it’s just… I was surprised? Dude, understand I’m not used to seeing you out of the gym,” and to _that_ , Fjord laughed. Oh, wow. “And… yeah, two backpacks. Just for today."

"Oh, and why is that?" 

"Err… carrying two backpacks around everyday sounds tiresome?" she shrugged as she gave that question for an answer. 

"No, I meant why are you carrying two backpacks today?" 

"Oh. Uh… Yeah,” dumbass, Beau. You’re a dumbass. “Had to bring stuff. For a friend. With my stuff and all, it didn't fit on my backpack. So… yeah."

"It looks quite new, though!" 

"That's because it's new. I bought it last week. To, eh… substitute mine. I was just waiting for it to break a little bit more,” she was beginning to sweat. This was such a stupid situation, and yet she had to improvise and lie because telling the truth sounded suspicious as hell.

_(Oh, yeah, you know. Someone found this backpack in the gym, and it had my name written on it! It contained a fucking pineapple juice bottle AND a note from a “good friend” who is worried —apparently— about the fact that my backpack is trashed as hell._

_Also, he knows I’m Spiderboo, which is quite frightening for me but, eh, whatever, right?)_

"Oh, understandable. Anyway, sorry for, uh… asking these weird questions?" 

And that was just it! So much for panicking! Thankfully Fjord was a “himbo”, as Jester had called him, and was satisfied with little (and not entirely coherent) explanations.

"Did you want something, Fjord?" Beau felt she had to ask that.

_(Fjord had called her, right? Then he had to want something.)_

"No! Not really. I just wanted to salute you, you know. Well— Actually, yes. I want something. Uh… What can you tell me about Mollymauk?" 

Beau blanked for a second there.

_(Mollymauk?)_

“Uuuh… He is… A good guy?” Beau blinked.

“And…?”

“A little bit straightforward? An ass most of the time, but a loveable ass,” she clarified. You couldn't hate Mollymauk, Beau was pretty sure there was a law in Zadash that forbade you from doing so. "He, uh… has a nice ass?" 

"I noticed," Fjord practically deadpanned, and oh boy, that made Beau choke on her own spit. "Oh, gosh, are you okay?" 

"Y-yeah? No, dude, I'm not okay," Beau made her best to regain her breath. "Hell, what is this coming from?" 

"Oh, you know, just," Fjord scratched the back of his head absent-mindedly (and a little more green than usual). "I was curious. He seems like a good guy. Seemed. The other day, when I met him. In the cafeteria. Where you were, too. And your friend, Jester?" 

"A-ha."

"So…" there was a silence. A long one. Beau looking straight at him, Fjord's eyes going from the ground to some point behind Beau, to finally to the sky. "Yeah. Just curious. You hadn't told me a lot about Molly, not as much as about Jester, of course. But you seem to have good friends. That's it, that's what I wanted to say." 

"Oh, thank… you? Wait, do I talk that much about Jester?" Beau's head tilted. She didn't— like— right?

"I… think so? Yeah. Or, well, that's my impression. But I mean, it's understandable," Fjord shrugged. And really, Beau was about to ask him about why it was 'understandable' when Fjord continued, "anyway, I guess you have stuff to do, considering you don't swing by the gym that much. I won't keep you any longer." 

"Uh… right. Yeah. Well, see you, Fjord. Oh, wait—" Beau stopped in her tracks as the dumbest of her pile of questions demanded attention. She looked at her gym buddy with… quite more intensity than what Fjord was apparently expecting. He even jumped on his seat. "Is your name Fjord? Like, is it not a nickname? Sorry if it's a weird or a too-much question or something too straightforward—" 

"Oh. I mean, yeah," Fjord shrugged. _Fjord_. "I mean— No, it's not too much, I get this question a lot and I get where y'all are coming from—" 

_(Oh, so Beau wasn't the only one to think Fjord was some kind of a nickname at first._

_Also, he had slipped on his accent right there, Your Honor. Again.)_

"It's my name. It's not short for… Fjordinald, or Fjordbert or something. I thought it sounded cool when I picked it. It's like, 'hey, I'm Fjord Stone, how are you?'. I don't know, it just sounded good."

"And it does! I mean, it sounds good. It sounds cool. Just—" Once again, there it was Beau struggling with words. _Weird_ wasn't the word, hell no. It was something more like—

"It's not common. At all. But that just makes it cooler," Fjord's face brightened just saying that. 

_(Yep, those were the words Beau had been looking for. Thanks, Fjord._

_And aw. No one could think Fjord sounded weird, not even a little bit, not after seeing that face.)_

"Fjord suits you just fine, though. I mean. You could have told me 'oh, no, my actual name is… Fernando', or Fjernando, whatever. And I would be like… hmmm, no, you have the face of a Fjord."

"That's… good to hear, indeed," Fjord's smile got bigger. 

"Or the face of a Captain. That, too," Beau added, a smile on her face mirroring Fjord's.

To that, Fjord laughed.

"Okay, yeah. That was it. Sorry for the stupid question," Beau apologized as Fjord's laugh started to die. 

"I could say the same, though."

"Eh, perhaps," Beau shrugged. "Anyway, keep doing your push-ups. I'll see you at the gym at… some point?" 

"At some point sounds just fine," Fjord shrugged.

And that had been basically it. Beau had finally told him goodbye and had made her way to the bus stop.

…Only to find Mr. Clay right there, sitting and apparently very interested in the behavior of a fly that flew around the neon sign which told how much you had to wait for the next bus. 

_(10 minutes, approximately. Hopefully the count would go down faster than expected.)_

Beau stopped in her tracks and turned around without thinking. And then she stopped again. No. Wait. It was just Mr. Clay. And she was just a student. Definitely not a superheroine. Also, Mr. Clay couldn't keep count of every one of his students, right? Not a single teacher could. 

It was highly unlikely he would remember Beau. Also, Caduceus Clay couldn't relate her to the heroine that had very much damaged his car the prior aft—

"Oh, Miss Lionett! What a coincidence. Are you taking the bus, too?" Said the teacher cheerfully. As if pulled by an invisible force, Beau made a 180° turnaround and faced the firbolg teacher, who was looking at her with warm eyes and a kind smile. 

_(Fuck.)_

"Uh… yeah. You too, Mr. Clay?" 

_(Oh, Beau. The stupidest question ever, that was what that was. Yep._

_Redundant as hell, too.)_

"Oh, I am. It's been a while since I had to take the bus back home, but since my car is quite useless right now —I imagine you saw me on the news, or you have been told about it, oh, all my colleagues were brimming with questions. What I was saying is that it's this or walking, and I'm quite tired today," the teacher laughed. "What about you, Miss Lionett?" 

"Uh?" Beau had blanked for a second there. 

"Do you take the bus every day?" 

"Oh, err… yeah. Almost every day." 

"Really? I never see you at this stop on my way to and from the place where I usually leave my car." 

"T-that's because I never pick one of these buses. Uh. I mean, there's this bus stop near the engineering building… Yeah, I take one of those to go back home. I'm here just because I have to visit a friend."

_(Wow, Beau, you were quick on that one. Maybe because you didn't have to lie, right?)_

"Oh, yeah. That one," Mr. Clay nodded.

And then he just kept staring at her. With that soft smile. 

_(Had Beau broke him when she fell on top of his car or something?)_

"So, uh… good weather, am I right?" Beau barely choked out. 

"Quite a wonderful day, yes. Have you ever thought about what keeps this world moving, Miss Lionett?"

_(Wow, talk about changing topics.)_

"I… You mean money or…? Because I think about that quite a lot and honestly we should eat the rich—" 

"Oh, no, I was talking about it more philosophically. My apologies for not specifying," Mr. Clay's laugh was low and kinda delicate in its own way.

_(Oh, what a wonderful day, also, have you ever thought about the meaning of life?)_

"In a philosophical way? As in…?" Beau left the question hanging in the air on purpose. But Mr. Clay didn't continue. "I mean, gods or something…?" 

"Not necessarily, although partially," Caduceus Clay responded. Gosh, thankfully they were alone at the bus stop. That conversation was too… weird, deep, whatever, Beau was already dying inside a little bit. "I'm kinda interested in theology, not gonna lie, all those forgotten gods of hundreds of years ago… Such a shame our ancestors stopped believing, even if it's just for the priceless amount of culture that was lost by doing so." 

_'It's too early for this,'_ Beau thought. It was midday.

"But forgive my digression, Miss Lionett," Mr. Clay went on. "My question was formulated out of pure curiosity. I'm often told that mentally I seem so much older than I really am, so I was wondering how a person with a young mind would answer one of the questions I ask to myself daily."

_(..._

_Daily?!_

_And wait a second, how old was Caduceus Clay again?)_

"So?" Mr. Clay asked. 

"So… what?" Beau was starting to sweat. Her brain was working too hard here. 

"What do you, Miss Lionett, think the world keeps moving for?"

… 

Beau stopped herself for a second. Oh, sure, a philosophical question was asked, why not let her stupid brain give it a thought?

Yeah, she could do that. 

_(It was all theoretical, of course. And it was probably going to be very stupid, that too. But she could give it a try.)_

Theology wasn't the answer, that was something Beau knew. Just knew. The gods, all the bunch of them, whoever they were, had disappeared a long time ago, and then people had obviously stopped believing in anything superior. Or maybe it had been the other way around, the gods had disappeared because people had stopped believing in them. Or maybe they hadn't ever existed at all. Beau was keener on that last option. The few names and "facts" that remained (sort of a bird queen? Something-father? A dragon? Or maybe there were more dragons, Beau couldn't really remember) seemed too random, or even magical. 

…But sure, now that Beauregard thought about it, it was stupid to just discard something just because it seemed random or magical. There she stood, being able to shoot webs and stick to walls with her bare hands, and on top of that her senses had been refined. And all of that just with a spider bite. 

_(Imagine if the spider had bitten her a second time. Dude.)_

And Beau's first thought had been the spider had been radioactive, but some people might discuss it seemed magical. Jester among them. Really, Twitter brimmed with theories. 

And the thing was, the magical thing had a certain _base_. There were legends. Stories for kids, here and there, about a long time ago. Everyone had heard at least a couple during their childhoods or had seen one of the numerous movie adaptations that had been done. It was not strange to find people who believed in magic during those days. 

Beau could have called them stupid, because if magic had even existed, no one had seen it in a few hundred years, at least. Nothing "extraordinary" or "fantastical" had happened and had been written down or recorded for the future.

Oh, but again, _she_ herself had happened. Beau didn't really want to think how a spider bite could have been something "magical", but whatever. She really stuck with the radioactivity theory. Seemed more feasible. Who knew the experiments the government did, or whatever. Yadda, yadda, conspiracy theories, yadda, yadda. 

Oh, wait a second. What was the question again?

_(What did Beau think the world moved for._

_Right.)_

If gods weren't there anymore (if they ever were), if magic was not a thing, and of course if science could explain literally why or how the planet moved without giving life real meaning, but like science wasn't an answer to Mr. Clay's actual very philosophical question, but—

Wait, nope. Stop. Her head was starting to hurt. 

"Mr. Clay, I have no fucking idea. Sorry. Uh. I have no idea, really," Beau gave herself a mental slap. No bad words in front of teachers. 

"Oh, then I feel calmer now," Mr. Clay smiled. "Because I have 'no fucking idea' either. Glad to know you've at least given it a thought or two, given the whole minute of silence that has just gone by." 

"In any case," Caduceus Clay continued, as he stood up, Beau watching him with a half-opened mouth, "my bus is arriving. I'm glad we could talk for a while. This was nice, Beauregard. A very nice chat."

And as it happened, a bus was actually coming from the end of the street, no more than 30 seconds away. 

And there he went. Away. leaving Beau’s mind kinda wrecked. What the hell? What had that been for? Just, what the loving fuck? Beau knew Mr. Clay was a weird professor, but apparently his ‘weirdness’ went over to his own life. ‘Weirdness’ not exactly in a bad way. He was just…

Well, the point Beau was trying to make internally had just been proved, right?

...Anyway. Beau should just stop thinking about it. 

\---

She didn’t even bother to take the bus again after getting out of Molly’s apartment. Beau went out through the window, carrying only her new backpack (Mollymauk had insisted he would burn the old one. Just fucking burn it, and Beau hadn’t come up with any excuse that would stop him) and, of course, wearing her perfectly mended heroine suit.

_(Molly had done a damn good job. Amazing, it didn’t even look like it had been ripped in the first place._

_Well, if you looked closely… maybe. But oh, Beau wasn’t about to let anyone get close enough to her to see her suit with such precision.)_

Being fast and trying to swing well above the ground was all Beau needed to do so people hopefully wouldn’t notice her. Oh, of course there would always be _someone_ watching, but due to the heigh it was unlikely someone would take notice of her backpack.

And in the rare case they would pay attention to the backpack, it was plain black. Even the little card in which Beau’s _good friend_ had written her name could be removed. And so she had done.

_“It was nice of your ‘good friend’ to gift you the most common backpack ever,”_ Molly had said. _“That person knew what they were doing, indeed. Still, questionable fashion choices.”_

_“A black backpack can be very fashionable,”_ had replied Beau.

_“If you insist…”_

Beau let herself stop for five minutes in a small alley at around 10 minutes from her apartment. Okay, yeah, being fast was tiring. And maybe her physical abilities had been enhanced, but her arms hurt. Sometimes. If she swung a lot, for too long.

Maybe she should go see Dairon again. Train a little bit, throw some punches here and there. Maybe if she got in better shape—

Footsteps. Fast. Approaching.

_(But no danger. No danger?)_

“Hey! Hey, Spiderboo! Spiderboooo! Wait!” Beau quickly turned around, facing that end of the alley. She could have recognized that sweet, melodious voice anywhere.

A very happy (but clearly tired) Jester was running, almost skipping, towards her, while making wild gestures with her arms.

Beau was able to see the disaster just before it happened.

Too focused on the superheroine, Jester wasn’t paying attention to the ground she walked on. When she realized Spiderboo was looking at her, she seemed to lose any remains of awareness she had, and so Beau could see the exact moment in which her left foot stumbled over her right foot, which was precisely (kinda) stuck between the cracks of a drain.

Beau’s body reacted without any order whatsoever. She moved forward as fast as she could and, as soon as she realized, she was embracing Jester and keeping her standing. 

Oh. Okay. She had done that. Thank fuck. 

They stood in that position for about five seconds, and yet it seemed way longer. But finally it was Jester herself the one who regained her composure and put some distance between them.

Beau had… kinda blanked.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! I’m so so sorry! But also thank you. But I’m sorry! I just—”

“No, no! It’s okay! Don’t worry,” the Tracy voice came out kinda choked out, but at least it was the Tracy voice the one that came out. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I am, thanks to you. Thank you Spiderboo! Ugh. Sorry. I was just. I want to,” Jester lifted her phone at the same time she turned to a deep shade of purple.

Oh, wow, an embarrassed Jester wasn’t something you saw every day. It was cute. She was cute.

_(Maybe Beau was gaping a little under the mask.)_

“Please, take a breath. C’mon. Inspire. Expire. Good, again,” Jester followed Beau’s instructions, but her blush wasn’t dying down completely. “Okay. Do you need anything?”

“Uuuh… You see, is a little stupid…” She was being shy? Like ACTUALLY ACTIVELY shy? Damn. “First of all, thank you for saving me last time! I don’t know if you know it, but apparently the person following me was part of, like, a mafia or something. The policemen were talking about a “gentleman”. I don’t know. Anyway! I saw you swinging around the city and… and I wanted to, to say thank you, right? So I got into a taxi to follow you, and like I hate taxis, so that’s something! But then on the way I thought, “hey, Jester! Wouldn’t it be great to ask Spiderboo some questions about what happened the other day? She hasn’t had a chance to explain herself. I mean, just if she wants”, and that’s why I’m here. And like, it’s okay if you don’t want to answer or anything, but you see, I have this blog about you, and people _actually_ follow it, so… It’s okay if you don’t want to, really!”

…

Okay, Beau needed a couple of seconds there. After any Jester-rant it was always very much needed to _think_ and _digest_ whatever had she said.

It really could have been summarized in “thank you, I followed you here to say that, not because I’m a weirdo, but still, can you answer some questions for my blog? Also, I’m pretty nervous.”

_(Yep, that was mostly it.)_

“Okay,” Beau blurted out.

“Okay…?”

“I mean. Okay. I can… uuh… answer a few questions. The ones I want? Sounds good?”

_(“Wait, what are you doing,” The brain cell deadpanned._

_“Shut up, she’s my friend.”_

_“THAT’S THE PROBLEM.”)_

“Wow. Wait. Really? Like, really?” Beau nodded. Jester jumped where she stood. “OH MY GOSH!” And then she uttered a very high-pitched scream of happiness.

Beau knew there were high chances she would regret accepting just like that. Not even giving it a long thought. But it was Jester. And also, something warm had just settled on her chest just by seeing her happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me??? Projecting on Beau because my parents never remember my birthday even when we live in the same house??? Mayhaps.
> 
> (I really wanted to update this on my birthday :C I always update a fic on my birthday, but coincidentally university decided to fuck me over. So, obviously didn't get in time for the 12th of September)
> 
> This chapter was going to be longer but then I started writing, and writing, and *writing* and I said, oh, okay, guess I'll split it in 2. Also, as I said, transFjord rights!
> 
> Take care, wash your hands and don't go out without your facemask, my friends. Next chapter is mostly planned, but I have yet to start writing. Be safe out there!


	8. Then ask for a dryer. Or better! For money to buy a dryer.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Great. Then ask for a dryer. Or better! For money to buy a dryer,” Molly basically jumped out of the wobbly stool and, with gestures, signaled Beau to move so he could sit beside her. He pulled out his phone. “Look, I’ve been looking and I’ve seen this really cool model… it’s not that expensive, you see? And it fits perfectly in my kitchen. So, you ask this Keyleth exactly for— oh, wait, but there’s this other model, and they have it in purple! Who has ever seen a purple dryer? Not me. And I like it. But it’s a little bit more expensive...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I know shit about journalism. I don't know how an interview is made and honestly, my degree has me exhausted enough to do research on this. 
> 
> Second of all: hi, how are you all doing? I'm stressed as fuck. I went to my local cat cafe the other day and I was so stressed 3 cats didn't leave from my side for almost 2 hours. Thanks, cats, you give me the therapy I can't afford.
> 
> Third of all, I'm not actually doing nanowrimo but I've set myself the goal of writing every day, even if it is just a sentence. And I've managed to write at least 500 words each day since the beginning of the month. Yay! That's how I got this chapter done, yep.
> 
> Fourth of all: *pats Molly on the head* LET'S FORGET ABOUT THE CURRENT EVENTS OF CRITICAL ROLE, SHALL WE? THIS IS GOOD OLD MOLLY.
> 
> Again, not betaed, though kudos to Ari (@_ARIenigena) for speed-reading this. I would appreciate it if you, dear reader, told me any mistakes you see, though.
> 
> More notes at the end!

**_SPIDER-INTERVIEW!!_ **

_GUYS GUYS GUYS! It’s me, your favorite tiefling, Jester!_

_So, yesterday I had the greatest opportunity EVER!! I had the luck to meet our favorite superheroine (Spiderboo, ofc) and she let me ask her some questions!!!!!! How COOOOOL is that??_

_Anyways here it goes you guys!!_

**_Okay, Spiderboo, first of all, how do you feel about your super deserved popularity?_ **

_It’s uh… it’s weird. Super fucking weird. Fuck_ — _shit. FUCK. Whatever. Sorry. As I said, weird. But like, thank you, I guess? Yeah, that’s the least I can say._

**_Do you check what people say about you on, like, Twitter, for example? And did you know about my blog?_ **

_I sometimes do, yeah. But it’s not like I pay too much attention to who says what. And yeah, I knew about your blog. A dear friend told me about it. They, uh… of course don’t know who I actually am. It’s a good blog._

**_Oh my gosh, I’m going to blush. Anyway, do you mind the haters?_ **

_Oh, I don’t, I know they’re just bored, and I’ve had to deal with worse people throughout my life. So, like. Whatever._

**_Okay, okay, let’s get to the important questions. What can you tell us about the person with the white mask?_ **

_I, uh… Cannot say much, really? I’m as lost as you._

**_You know nothing about them?_ **

_Basically._

**_That sucks._ **

_You tell me._

**_Cats or dogs?_ **

_I would say dogs? I guess?_

“I mean,” Molly lifted his gaze from the phone screen. “It’s an interview, indeed.”

“Yep,” Beau said, popping the last letter.

“Now we know why Jester didn’t study journalism.”

“I mean, have you seen her? How _would she study journalism_ ,” Beau sighed as she raked back her hair, redoing her small bun. 

“I, at least, hope you’re more prepared for today’s interview,” Molly sighed. “Oh, wait, the interview goes on—”

“—For about 20 more questions or so, yes. Favorite color, favorite school subject, favorite sport…” Beau sighed. _Again_.

“Your favorite color isn’t orange, is it?” Molly looked at her again, with a certain gravity.

“No, I started lying past the dogs and cats question. Nothing against Jester, I just thought it wasn’t best if I didn’t tell many truths about myself. Not that anyone knows me that well, but just in case, you know… someone could guess my identity,” Beau shrugged just as Molly sighed.

“That’s a relief. Being this enigmatic strong lesbian everyone’s too scared to get close to had to have its benefits. And yeah, I’m glad you lied about your interests,” Molly nodded, and then looked back at his phone.

_(Wait, would it be that bad if orange was Beau’s favorite color? Molly? “That’s a relief”? Was that about the color thing? Molly?_

_Wait, “enigmatic strong lesbian_ everyone’s too scared to get close to had to”? Mollymauk— _)_

“Anyways,” Molly started again before Beau could ask anything, “today is the actual interview, right? The one with the TV?”

“Yep. 5 pm today,” Beau said, straightening up in her seat on top of a box with instant coffee packages. Molly had been the one who had suggested meeting in the backroom of the cafeteria. Private enough, Jester (who had spent the whole first two hours of the class talking and talking and talking about how she had met Spiderboo the day before and all the positive feedback she was getting from the followers of her blog) wouldn’t find them once she came back from the library, and they had surfaces stable enough to sit.

Even if those surfaces were boxes of instant coffee and a wobbly stool employees used to get to the highest shelves. 

Also, said employees barely entered the backroom during the morning. Molly said that, at least. Both Mona and Yuli had already interrupted them two times, but Molly insisted on the fact that they NEVER entered the backroom, they just wanted to fuck around and annoy the shit out of them. Which seemed quite legit, given Molly’s face when he said that.

“And, well?” Molly leaned forward and looked straight at Beau with his big red eyes, eyebrows up.

“And, well, what?”

“Is it 100% sure you’re going to go? I mean, I encouraged you to go, and I want a dryer, and you could ask for a dryer on TV, but I mean. It’s your decision to make. There are plenty of reasons why you wouldn’t go. Why you _shouldn’t_ go,” Molly’s brow furrowed a little bit in worry.

“You said it yourself, though, didn’t you?” Beau took a few seconds to answer. “If anything goes wrong I can always get the fuck out of there. My place. My time. My conditions. Well, not exactly _my_ place, you know, I don’t own— yeah. But you get me, right?”

“So you’re going?” Molly asked.

“Hmm… yes, I guess I am.”

“Great. Then ask for a dryer. Or better! For money to buy a dryer,” Molly basically jumped out of the wobbly stool and, with gestures, signaled Beau to move so he could sit beside her. He pulled out his phone. “Look, I’ve been looking and I’ve seen this really cool model… it’s not _that_ expensive, you see? And it fits perfectly in my kitchen. So, you ask this Keyleth exactly for— oh, wait, but there’s this other model, and they have it in purple! Who has ever seen a purple dryer? Not me. And I like it. But it’s a little bit more expensive...”

And that was exactly how Beau found herself listening about dryers for at least half an hour more. And gosh, she was thankful she had to go to class. Molly had become too passionate about dryer models.

He would send later his FINAL choice. Through TalksUp. Oh, couldn’t wait.

_(She could SURELY wait.)_

  
  


\---

  
  


Beau made it to the Pillow Trove roof 15 minutes before the time. Keyleth Vessar and her cameraman (Grog, was it?) appeared 5 minutes before 5 o’clock, and apparently the journalist hadn’t been expecting Spiderboo to _really_ be there, given the little scream she let out.

“Oh, my gosh, you’re here! That’s so cool!” Keyleth covered her mouth with her hand in surprise. Beau raised her eyebrows (of course, no one saw this). The journalist had stopped looking professional for a second and had started looking like any woman of her age. Or maybe even younger. It was always difficult to guess the age of half-elves.

“I’m… here, indeed,” Beau pulled her best Tracy voice, but apparently today Tracy was being as awkward as Beau was feeling. 

“Oh, I hope I haven’t made you wait that long…” the journalist finally closed the door (just after her cameraman stopped struggling to get through it) and got close to where Beau was standing, but she still stopped in her tracks a couple of meters from the superheroine.

“Oh, no, don’t worry, I just… got here early.”

“Oh, good. That’s good,” Keyleth let out a nervous laugh. “Oh, well, anyway. I think I already introduced myself, but I’m Keyleth Vessar from VM news. This is Gro—”

“Grog Strongjaw!” Interrupted the cameraman, sounding strangely proud of himself. As if… as if he was proud of his name, Beau guessed.

“Yeah, I remember,” Was what Spiderboo responded. “Look, before we start—”

“Oh, I have to call my boss,” Keyleth interrupted, probably without thinking. “He doesn’t know I had possibly gotten an interview with you, I didn’t want to say anything, just in case. Grog didn’t say anything either. But, oh, he has been wanting someone to interview you for WEEKS, Spiderboo, WEEKS. This is going to be HUGE, I tell you,” Keyleth had pulled out her phone and was scrolling down her contact list. When she brought the phone to her ear, she stopped talking. 

One second, two seconds. Beau could hear her own heartbeat, actually. Gosh, she hadn’t noticed how nervous she was.

Oh, and she still had to talk about the dryer.

“Hi! I mean, sorry, hello, boss,” Keyleth corrected her tone and her excitement in half a second. “I have an exclusive. Yes. Yes! I’m here with Spiderboo. She’s agreed on an interview. Yes, I’m serious. You want me to…? Okay,” she distanced the phone from her ear, and then talked to Beau, “he wants me to initiate a video call so he can see you’re actually here with me, is that alright?”

“I guess so…?” Beau was still talking and Keyleth had already turned around and was trying to start the video function.

“C’mon… c’mon… Oh, here,” she lifted her phone and turned on the front-facing camera and tried her best to include herself and Spiderboo in the image. “Is this enough?” 

“Oh… oh, wow,” a deep voice on the other end of the line said, now on speaker for both Keyleth and Beau to see. “Is it really her.”

“As far as I know, I am me,” Beau said awkwardly, and then asked. “Do you want me to shoot some webs or…?”

“Oh, that would be a really cool entrance!” Keyleth said, looking straight at Beau. The face-front camera was now focusing on Keyleth’s legs, “I could introduce the situation and you could come swinging and, like, strike a cool pose, and Grog would broadcast everything— We’d just have one take, of course, but it could look _so well_ —”

“I like your ideas, Vessar, but I’d like to be watching you and Spiderboo too,” Keyleth's boss said.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Keyleth straightened her arm. “Okay, cool then, you tell me when we’re going in?”

“Give me 15 minutes and you’re live, I’m already contacting the big shots,” said the man, the excitement now present in his voice too. “Take the time to go through the usual procedures. Oh, also, does Spiderboo want something? I’m guessing she’s not doing this for free.”

And then, Keyleth looked again at Beau, her arm again falling a little bit, her mouth half-opened.

_(Molly’s voice came back to her memories, “I want a dryer!”)_

“Ah, well, you see…” Beau let out a nervous laugh.

At least she only had to ask for the money.

  
  


\---

  
  


_“...special interview with Spiderboo. Here! Live! In VM News!”_

Molly’s head lifted automatically from the cup of coffee he was serving. The TV on the cafeteria couldn’t be heard in normal circumstances, those normal circumstances being “the morning shifts”. But afternoon shirts were more chill, even when there were still students on campus, attending classes or doing whatever the hell students did on campus on their free afternoons, from going to the gym to study at the library.

_(Molly felt sorry for both of those specific types of people. Yeah, even for Beau._

_Oh, right, Beau.)_

The thing was, the cafeteria was quite empty, so of course everyone could hear the TV. And surely everyone lifted their gazes and cut short their conversations once they heard the words coming out of the screen.

_(Haha, Molly had made sure that channel was on that day. He_ really _wanted to see that live.)_

“Pump up the volume!” Molly heard Gustav himself say, and Yuli grabbed the controller and did exactly that just as Keyleth Vessar appeared on screen, a not-identifiable white background behind her.

“Good afternoon! I’m Keyleth Vessar from VM news and we’re just seconds away from— Oh, she’s here! Grog!” The camera turned violently and focused on the white sky (a rooftop, maybe?), free of buildings in the distance.

_(“Ah,” Molly thought. “The Pillow Trove rooftop.” It was obvious, given that it was the tallest building in the city. Hopefully, people would take longer to realize.)_

And sure enough, Spiderbeau appeared perched on the railing and with a graceful (and strong) movement, she made a flip and landed on the rooftop itself, striking a not-too-forced pose (Molly had to give her kudos for that).

Aaand then she shot a web and grabbed the mic Keyleth was apparently offering her.

_(That was an intelligent move. It showed her powers on screen, so now the great majority of people would believe it was actually her. Or course, there would be a whole bunch of ‘non-believers’ that would talk about CGI and a crane with invisible wires that allowed a person to do such movements looking effortless, and a very good replica of the suit Molly had sewn with his own hands.)_

“‘Sup,” oh, good, they were using a distorter for her voice. Glad to know they were so keen on taking precautions for her.

At that point, everyone in the cafeteria was deeply entranced by what was happening on the TV. And Spiderboo had only just appeared on TV! The power she held… amazing. 

_(Beau was not aware she held that power. Molly knew that. The bitch. Or, well, the spider. Duh.)_

When Molly came back to reality Beau was already sharing the screen with Keyleth.

“Good afternoon to you, Spiderboo.”

“Oh, good afternoon.”

“—And thank you, _thank you_ , again for agreeing to this interview.”

“It had to happen sooner rather than later, I guess,” Beau shrugged a little bit awkwardly, and that made Keyleth and half of the cafeteria chuckle.

_(Good, good. She was already winning over the hearts of the public just by being the fucking dork she actually was. A natural. The camera loved her, yadda yadda.)_

“Then I’m glad I’m the first one to interview you, if you let me say. Anyway!” Keyleth started before Beau could say something about that. The journalist took out a bunch of flashcards and _gosh, her hands were shaking, poor girl_. “Let’s start with the interview, shall we?”

_(At least she was keeping her tone steady. That was professionalism.)_

“Of course.”

“Well, first and foremost, we’d like to know a little bit more about you. But don’t worry, no personal information! And yes, that _makes sense_ ,” Keyleth remarked. “Where does Spiderboo come from? Her powers, the name… Tell us whatever you want.”   
  


“Ah… Okay, I would be lying if I told you I know where these powers come from,” Beau started. Half a lie, but _‘hey, dude, I don’t know, a radioactive spider or something bit me’_ sounded crazy as hell. “But, like, it’s not something I’ve been born with. It happened to me just recently.”

“About two months ago?”

“Yep, exactly,” Beau confirmed. Well, there was no harm in admitting that, Molly considered. He had started taking sips from the coffee cup he had been filling. Ah, he’d give the customer one free later. “And the name? I have to admit I was nervous as hell when you asked me and I hadn’t thought about one, so it came up at the moment.”

_(More like, “I almost told you my name at that time so, indeed, I improvised”.)_

“Oh, that certainly explains it,” Keyleth nodded. The way she let out her questions wasn’t exactly professional, though. But it was working quite well. The interview had a warm vibe, as if they were watching two old friends conversing, catching up with each other. “The important thing here is, are you happy with being called Spiderboo, then?”

“I mean, if anyone has a better idea, the suggestion box is open,” and that resulted in a general laugh, Molly and Beau themselves included.

“Those suggestions would be fun to read, I’m sure of that,” Keyleth said while still laughing. When she regained her breath, the journalist continued talking, “Next question. I, of course, have to ask you about your new suit. It fits you _so well_.”

“Thank you!”

_‘Thank you!’_ Molly said internally as he felt his chest swelling up in pride.

“Did you do it yourself?”

“Oh, not at all, I can’t sew for sh— for my life,” Beau stopped herself. Good, children could have been watching. “A friend made it for me. They insisted on it, in fact.”

“Ah, so there are people out there who know your real identity?”

“Of course. Just… you know, my closest, most trusted people,” Beau shrugged. “Not a lot of people, you know.”

_‘Ah, but Beau wouldn’t trust me for shit. Or would she?’_ Molly thought. He wouldn't trust himself for shit.

“It’s understandable, I guess, right? I mean, something like this is difficult to hide from your closest friends.”

“Yup.”

“In any case, please tell your friend their work with this suit is amazing! You only have to check social media to realize every person in Zadash is stunned by your looks.”

“I’m sure they are already watching, and they probably have this smug look on their face…” Beau sighed. Yep, Molly had that exact face. Yep, Beau was probably thinking about how hard she wanted to punch the purple tiefling.

Molly knew her well enough to be able to say that.

_(It wasn’t that difficult to be able to say that.)_

“I wouldn’t expect less from any person in Zadash right now, if I’m honest,” Keyleth went on. “Can you turn around so we may see the whole suit? I don’t think we’ve had the opportunity yet.”

“Oh, sure…”

“Grog, step back, record everything,” and the camera immediately zoomed out just as Beau turned around slowly, making sure the suit could be seen perfectly.

_(Aw, Molly was so SO proud of his own work...)_

“Now, let’s get to what everyone has been wondering…” started Keyleth just as Beau finished her turn-around, the camera zooming in as the words were said.

_(Oh, there it went.)_

“What can you tell us about what happened the other day on the street? You know what I’m talking about.”

And for sure, Beau took a little more time than the previous times to think about what she was going to say.

“I can tell you…” She said slowly, “that I’m the first one that doesn’t know what happened. I’m being completely honest, I swear.”

“But who was that person?”

“I have no idea.”

“You didn’t know them at all?”

“I… had met them before. Once. They tried to fight me in a similar way, but thankfully it was out of everyone’s view and thus, no cars were damaged in the process,” Molly repressed a cackle. Other people in the cafeteria didn’t manage to do it, “and the traffic wasn’t interrupted either. We fought, and when I saw the chance I fled. But, like, that’s it. That’s really it.”

“What do they want from you? Some witnesses affirm they were telling you to ‘give back’ something.”

“Yeah, I know there are videos. And I can’t tell you anything, because, again, I don’t know. They have never said once what they want me to ‘give back’. And honestly? I would give back whatever they want if that stopped them from, just— jumping at me when I’m, you know, chilling, or trying to do some good around the city.”

“You don’t have any idea of what it could be?” Keyleth insisted.

“Not really, no. I haven’t stolen anything, I swear. I don’t have that much money, but, you know, everyone knows, c’mon, my old ‘superheroine’ clothes… I mean…” a new laugh from the people at the cafeteria, and from Keyleth too. “I’m better than that.”

“I have no doubt you are, indeed, better than that,” Keyleth agreed with a nod. “And I know you don’t have any idea about practically anything, that has been made clear, but by any chance do you have any idea about why everyone present at the scene the other day started to suffer a great headache?”

“Your suppositions are correct, I have no idea. Yet again,” Beau added. “But still… I think it could have something to do with the mask the figure was wearing. It’s just… my headache increased when I tried to look straight at them. So I would suggest every Zadash citizen avoids looking at their mask if, by any chance, a scene like the one from the other day happens again. Something I hope doesn’t happen, by the way.”

“Surely that’s what everyone hopes for. But do you think this person will give up?”

“I mean, I would hope they would give up after watching me here _explaining myself_ , but somehow I doubt that’s a possibility,” and this time Beau herself laughed nervously, but no one else did.

Yeah, completely understandable. 

“Well, then I think the situation that happened a few days ago is settled!” Keyleth nodded. “I hope our viewers are satisfied with your explanations. I, indeed, am, despite the fact you know barely anything.”

“Yep, we’re all on the same page here, sorry,” Beau shrugged.

“In any case, I still need to ask why you left the scene so soon. Why did you flee?”

“I was hurting,” Beau started. “Maybe I’m a superheroine, or something like that, and that’s why I survived the fall and crash into that car. But still, my back hurt _a lot_ . And I fought someone, don’t know if you remember. AND on top of that, I’m not immune to headaches. I was in no condition to speak about what had just happened, so I just absconded. Plus, it was about to get _chaotic_ in there, you know it Keyleth. And so know the rest of the people present at the scene.”

“The videos don’t lie, ladies, gentlemen, and non-binary folks, what this dear superheroine says isn’t that far from what we’ve all seen,” Keyleth said with a certain gravity. Damn, nobody had taught this journalist about impartiality? Although her words benefited Spiderboo, that was for sure. “Changing topics, I really wanted to ask you why you decided to become a superheroine.”

“Oh… That…” Beau took a little bit of time before starting to talk. Molly hadn’t seen her think so much before speaking in, like, ever. “I don’t really know, now that you mention it? It just… happened. This cool thing happened to me, so I guess I just thought, ‘well, let’s try these cool powers, but make it subtle’, so I started to go around the city trying to learn the hangs, I guess I... somehow... saved a person or two? Someone recorded me, uploaded it, then I was everywhere. It’s not that deep.”

“Didn’t think you would get recorded?”

“I just thought no one looked up when they went around, no offense,” Beau shrugged. A dumbass, that was what she was. “I just… I don’t know, people could have thought literally anything. I could have been a very weird species of bird. think about it,” another generalized laugh.

“Except you aren’t.”

“Except I am, indeed, not a bird,” Beau said as Keyleth seemed to get to her last flashcard.

_(Ah, it hadn’t been a long interview, but Molly guessed it was partially because the chances of them being together for such a long period of time put Spiderboo at risk. As in, someone could guess where they were. Something that wasn’t exactly difficult.)_

“I’ve got the last question for you, if you don’t mind.”

“Shoot.”

“What is your objective as a superheroine? Is it to fight crime? Is it to protect the city in a general sense?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t…” but Beau trailed off. The cafeteria was in the most absolute silence. Keyleth was in silence. Molly’s cup stopped halfway to his mouth. The world seemed to stop for a bit. It was amazing how that person on the TV, Molly’s friend, Zadash new (and only) superheroine, seemed to have everyone eating everything she was saying.

_(Did the spider powers come with a super ability to be able to enthrall people?)_

“I wouldn’t say so,” Beau finally said a few seconds later, “not like that, at least. I’m just here to help everyone, as long as it is in my hand to do so. Calling myself a protector, or… I don’t know, I don’t think it suits me. I’m not even completely comfortable with the term ‘superheroine’ yet. But I fail in giving myself an alternative title, given the circumstances. I just don’t see myself as a heroine. Not yet, at least.”

“For what’s worth, Zadash sees you as one. There’s no doubt the city will wait for you to trust enough in yourself! In the meantime, do you mind if we call you our superheroine?”

“Ah, not really. If you’re used to it, you’re used to it. It will feel right for me, uh… at some point. I hope.”

“I hope that too,” Keyleth nodded. “Well, thank you again for accepting this interview with VM news, Spiderboo.”

“You’re welcome,” Beau scratched the back of her head, awkwardly.

And soon enough, the conversations returned to the cafeteria, but this time way louder than before. Molly couldn’t blame them, now everyone had _something_ to talk about. Keyleth Vessar said a couple of things before the program that had been airing before resumed, the guest of said talk-show immediately changing topics to also talk about Spiderboo’s interview.

Molly didn’t really get to hear any complete conversation, but the gist of all of it was… positive. They liked Spiderboo. They thought she was cool, and she was also quite “relatable”. 

Yep, kids these days could think of Beau as “relatable”, Molly thought.

They were speculating, too. By her way of talking she sounded young, would she be going to this university? Oh, what if they all knew her? But no, it couldn’t be that easy, could it? 

Molly was really trying to listen while he served cups of coffee and whatnot, but it was difficult.

Oh, and also, his phone buzzed on the pocket of his apron about 5 minutes after the interview had ended.

He already knew who was messaging him like crazy.

\---

_Me_

did you see me???

i mean of course you did but u know, have to ask

was i good?

i was fucking nervous man

i mean it was necessary but from now on ill avoid interviews at all costs

also, i got the money

for the dryer i mean

vessar and her boss were quite surprised i only asked for “so little money” and i was like

bithc

i can eat an entire month or maybe two with that money thank you very much

but anyway keyleth had been prepared in case i asked for “an economic compensation”

so they gave me what i asked for

_mollyfuck_

just what you asked for??

_Me_

oh good day to you too, just jumping straight to what you care about huh

_mollyfuck_

i have need

namely: a fucking dryer

_Me_

nah, they insisted in giving me more

but caleb was struggling to pay the vet bills

you know, for frumpkin

vaccines and all that jazz

so i thought i could pitch in

the cat is kinda my fault too, to put it someway

_mollyfuck_

awww u care!

_Me_

of course i care!!!

and if there’s anything left i mean

i’m a fine arts student, it’s a miracle i’m not living under a bridge already

_mollyfuck_

wiser words had never been spoken

written

whatevs

but dont worry you were fiiiiiiine

i was listening to the convos in the cafeteria and they are all about you obviously

_Me_

aaaaand?

_mollyfuck_

and they are all positive

some people suspect youre a university student by the way you talk though

_Me_

yeah, kinda could have guessed that

anything else

_mollyfuck_

they think youre “““relatable”””

_Me_

that is

the best thing someone has said about me

that’s my goal in life

being relatable

i can die at peace

_mollyfuck_

please dont

you have the money for my new dryer

_Me_

i’ll write a will

wait a second i’m on it

i leave molly enough money for him to buy that fucking dryer he wanted

the rest goes to my flatmate’s cat

jester can get my art supplies and my favorite plushie

thanks for reading xoxo

_mollyfuck_

i thought youd left jester something else

but thats okay i guess

_Me_

???

_mollyfuck_

anyways im saving that will Just In Case

where are you now?

_Me_

omw to dairon’s

_mollyfuck_

oooh???? is this??????

character development?????

_Me_

not really, i still dont want to see them really???

but i have to go Sooner Or Later

and today seems like a good day

you know

spiderboo has somehow appeared already today

and if we’re already deep in this shit we should keep going

i should keep going

you know what i mean

_mollyfuck_

do u mean ‘lets get over with everything that gives me some kind of anxiety at once’???

_Me_

kinda, because i can’t end the ties that relate me to my parents

but yeah

_mollyfuck_

well then

wish you can finish with it or whatever soon enough

_Me_

thanks dude

_mollyfuck_

wait, since when you dont see dairon???

But Beau was already putting away her mobile, as she had just entered the Cobalt Soul. She had had to find a discreet place close enough to the Cobalt Soul building to change her clothes after the interview, obviously. And, actually, going there had been a spontaneous decision, but it was too late already to regret it.

_(As in, she had just remembered she had promised to come back to the Cobalt Soul Archive the day after she had been there for the last time. And the day after that. Something she had obviously NOT done.)_

Jennah had just seen her.

“Oh, you’re here,” she said with a sing-song tone. Which was kinda creepy, not gonna lie. “Dairon is gonna be pleased!”

That was even MORE CREEPY.

“Hmm… Yeah… I hope?” Beau said unsurely.

“Oh, but be careful, they are in a specially bad mood today,” Jennah said cheerfully.

_(Oh, fuck, Beau was gonna die. She was walking towards her death._

_At least she had just written her will.)_

So, there went Beau, into the Cobalt Soul Archive. Which, by the way, why the hell was it called an Archive? Beau had never seen books there. Or, like, any piece of paper. It was... more like a gym, but obviously not quite. 

What was the Cobalt Soul Archive, really? Beau had asked before, yadda yadda, Dairon had looked at her like she was trash, yadda yadda, the shit had been kicked out of Beau. So, who the fuck knew! Not Beau, that was for sure! 

And now she was gonna die without knowing.

  
  


\---

  
  


Jennah hadn’t lied. Dairon was _mad_ that day. About what? No idea.

“You’re slow,” said the teacher, as they dodged a punch Beau was sure was going to land. “And predictable,” as Beau tried to immediately throw a hook, Dairon stopped it with a single hand, made a swift movement, and the next Beau knew her back hit the floor.

_(Okay, Dairon was already quite mean on a daily basis, but that day there was something else in their words. Beau was perceptive enough to realize that.)_

“You could, you know. Teach me something? Instead of just humiliating me?” Beau didn’t even try to stand up. Dairon offered her their hand. But Beau knew better. Dairon was offering their hand just to throw her down _again_.

_(She had fallen too many times in that trap.)_

“I’ll stop humiliating you when you show me something good. Decent, at least,” they retired their hand. “But for now? You’re just weak. And I would say I’m not surprised, considering you’re not being constant with the sessions.”

“So harsh! You hurt my feelings,” Beau said theatrically as she propped herself up. “Don’t you have any other pupils to beat?”

“Oh, I would never do that on purpose,” Dairon deadpanned, completely skipping over Beau’s question. Beau rolled her eyes. “C’mon, try to hit me again.”

“You say I’m predictable, but that just has to do with you fighting me for months,” Beau complained without standing up.

“That’s not your problem, Beauregard,” Dairon said seriously, their look piercing Beau’s soul. Oops, maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to reply in that way. “Your problem,” but then Dairon sighed, and their voice became a little bit softer, “your problem is still that you’re... okay, yes, you're predictable, "they ended up admitting," but not because we've been fighting each other for months. You’re strong, you have the potential. You could beat me any day if it wasn’t because it’s too easy to see from where you are going to attack. If it was because of the number of times we’ve fought, you would be able to anticipate where my punches are coming from, right? And you, indeed, have learned how to stop some of my movements. You didn’t take my hand just now, right? You knew I was going to put you into a chokehold. To stop me, you have to learn how to identify even the subtler movement even before I’ve started to move. To hit me, you have to be able to distract me and disguise what your real intentions are.”

“And sure,” Dairon continued. “One day we’ll both be too good and not a single hit will land. Today is not that day, though. So get up, go home for now, and think about what I said. And please,” Dairon added before turning around. “To start even _trying_ , you have to at least _come_. Then, Beauregard, I’ll stop hurting your feelings.”

And with that said, Dairon made it out of the training room in one, three, five long and determined steps.

Beau let out a raspberry and let herself fall again against the floor. Even if she hated to admit it, Dairon seemed to be, to say the least, partially right. And yes, she should start going to the Cobalt Soul more frequently, even with _all_ going on. _Precisely_ because of what was going on in her life. 

Maybe that had been the key all along. If Beau had been able to fight like Dairon, she would have kicked the headache-person’s ass in a flash. And perhaps Beau was still kinda weirded out by the whole superheroine thing, as she had said in the interview, but how could there be a superheroine that wasn’t even good at fighting? Or at least not good enough for what the situation required.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *singing* I don't know what the fuck I'm doing! But I'm liking it!
> 
> Not a lot happening in this chapter, I guess, but it was kinda necessary. Why? We'll discover it later! (I hope)
> 
> On recent news, I'm doing my degree's final dissertation on DnD (and by extension I will have to mention Critical Role). This is going to be fun. And extremely exhausting, considering All The Other Shit I'll Have To Do. But don't worry, I've never been so motivated to write a fic! So bear with me here, because I'm finishing this bad boy right here even if my life is slowly crumbling :'D I'll finish it. Yep. At some point. I'm already on it, right? Right.
> 
> Take care, wash your hands and don't go out without your facemask, my friends. Next chapter is NOT planned, but I'll get there. Be safe out there!


	9. I think it’s in your closet.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And yes, I just saw that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know. I don't know how is this thing that keeps happening to me. You know. That thing. Writing a FUCK TON when I'm supposed to be FUCKING BUSY. University is CHOKING ME and I'M HERE. WRITING ABOUT LESBIANS. 
> 
> Anyways! Plot-heavy chapter? Mayhaps. MAYHAPS. 
> 
> Ari hasn't read this one yet but oh, she will do it soon. I did my best to revise it. I would appreciate it if you, dear reader, told me any mistakes you see, though.
> 
> More notes in the end! Though they are spoilery.

“AW, SHIT—”

“Jester—”

“I don’t have more swords!”

“Jeeessie—”

“Stupid dumb monster with laser beams.”

  
“Jes!”

“Yes?” Jester’s tone changed completely once she looked at Beau.

“In this game, swords break,” Beau stated.

“Like, I realized. But why? That’s a stupid mechanic!”

“Shh. Shhhh,” Beau took a deep breath. “Get out of the game, don’t save, I’ll try to kill the monster for you.”

“You WOULD?”

“I mean, yeah,” Beau shrugged. She hadn’t played that game, ever. But she had always been good at playing video games. She could always try.

“Oh, but don’t worry so much,” Jester pouted. “I can do it myself. I just need time.”

“Ooor… you know, we can leave Zilda for a day or two, and play Maria Kart together—” 

“YES YES YES YES,” Jester had started saying before Beau could even finish her sentence. In a blink Jester was up and going to change the game from her console.

Beau had kinda needed that, a free afternoon. An afternoon for Jester and her alone. She hadn’t hung out with her best friend like that in MONTHS. So, they had first gone to drink some smoothies, then they had gone shopping (Jester had insisted on buying Beau new headphones, as the ones she previously had were almost completely broken and absolutely fixed with hot glue), and then they had finally gone to Jester’s apartment. Not knowing what to do, Beau had suggested to Jester she should play Zilda, as Beau was a fan but she didn’t have the money to buy the last generation of consoles. Jester obviously did. So Beau had just spent an entire hour watching Jester running around the open-world game, falling from cliffs and drowning in lakes.

Jester wasn’t especially good at video games.

_(It was endearing, actually. Beau could watch her play for hours straight, and she wasn’t even kidding. Maybe Jester wasn’t good at playing, but it was… nice, just nice. Entertaining, fun, never worrying, or getting really frustrated over a game. She knew how to have fun._

_Yep, despite her prior outburst about swords breaking when she had tried to fight a big metal laser-shooting guard. It wasn’t like she really got worked up about it. Yes, she wanted to finish the game at some point, and yes, she was very specific about doing it without any help, but that didn’t mean she was taking it that seriously. What was the point of a game if it stopped being fun, anyway?)_

In any case, Maria Kart it was, right?

Jester threw the controller at Beau as if the console wasn’t worth what both Beau and Caleb spent a month on food for them (and now for Frumpkin too). Of course, Beau caught it in the air. Reflexes and all that jazz.

“Wow, that was so cool!” Jester plopped down next to Beau as she initiated the videogame. The login screen didn’t take long to turn into the game’s title, all flashy and colorful. While that happened, Jester fell to her side, now her body snuggling against Beau’s.

_(That definitely was Jester’s favorite position in the world, given the number of times they had been together just like that.)_

“Hey, if you want to at least win _a race_ , do you think it’s good to be _THAT_ relaxed?” Beau commented jokingly, but she let her own head fall on top of Jester’s head. Or, well, on top of her horns. 

_(It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it was nice. It was familiar. A nice warm feeling settled on the bottom of Beau’s stomach._

_It was so nice, actually.)_

“I could beat you even with a hand tied to my back,” Jester chuckled.

_‘Well,’_ Beau thought, _‘maybe a few months ago she could have. Now, though?’_

And of course Beau’s reflexes gave her an (unfair) advantage in the game. She beat Jester’s character, Apple, without a sweat. It didn’t matter what Jester threw at her, banana peels, tortoise shells, squid ink… Beau was too sharp for that game.

_(That didn’t mean it hadn’t been fun as fuck!)_

“Damn, you got better!” Jester straightened up just as Lily, Beau’s usual character, crossed the finish line.

“Oh, no. No, no, you’re not gonna stop snuggling _now_ ,” said Beau, and without thinking, she went after Jester so the physical contact wouldn’t stop.

So, that was exactly how Beau ended lying on top of Jester on her sofa.

Huh. Awkward.

_(What was more awkward was the way Beau felt her cheeks heat as she looked at Jester’s deep purple eyes, a big smile on her lips, her short blue hair falling around, messy, like a halo but still slightly tangled on her horns, and the thing was Beau was so close she could count Jester’s little freckles, and she could also imagine herself—)_

“Aw, come here!” And Beau’s train of awkward thought was interrupted by Jester hugging her and kinda forcing her to lie beside her, not on top of her. Now Beau was trapped between Jester’s body and the back of the sofa.

_(Huh. That had been WEIRD.)_

They were still quite close, though. The sofa wasn’t that big. But something had tied Beau’s tongue. For once, she couldn’t find a comeback or even something to say. Whatever. Just. Whatever.

_(Huh._

_The brain-cell was eating popcorn while holding a pair of binoculars, the fucking bitch.)_

“Okay, okay, okaaay,” started Jester cheerfully. “I _might_ need some rest from playing.”

“From playing, yeah,” Beau echoed.

“Like, that’s why I lost to you, _obviously_.”

“Obviously.”

“Soooo, what do you wanna talk about?” Jester asked.

“What?”

“What do you wanna talk about?” Jester repeated. “I mean, I know I talk _a lot_. So I just thought, you know, you would like to talk to me? Tell me something? Maybe? Pleasepleaseplease?”

“I, uh… I don’t… know what to tell you?” Beau was struggling there and _she didn’t know why. What the hell_.

“What about Frumpkin?”

“Frumpkin is… fine, I guess? He spends… a lot of time in Caleb’s room,” Beau tried to find the words, but it was like she was trying to talk while brushing her teeth, toothpaste on her mouth and all, “he, uuh… he’s eating more nowadays.”

“That’s good! Like, he was so small when you adopted him…” Jester started saying, and that was it, she had started to ramble. Beau tried to pay attention to it.

She really tried.

“Hey, why don’t you…” Beau interrupted at some point, not even thinking, unconsciously trying to grab onto something familiar, something that could make Beau’s adrenaline jump so she could focus again on Jester talking.

_(And not on Jester’s excited expression, her cheerful tone, the way her lips curved as she smiled between sentences—)_

“Why don’t you tell me about Spiderboo? I know you interviewed her before the TV.”

“Ah! Yes, yes I did _that_ ,” then there was a certain smugness on her face and her voice. “You read it?”

“Of course I read it,” Beau let out a little huff. 

_(Good job, Beau, you’re doing a good job, keep going that way.)_

“It was sooo cool,” Jester now rested her head on her palm. “SOOOO cool, you can’t even imagine! She accepted to be interviewed! By me! Like, before the TV could interview her!”

“That’s big,” Beau let out a whistle, just for the effect.

“I know! And she was, like, the kindest. I guess giving an interview in a dirty alley isn’t anyone’s dream, but she was, like, super professional! And super nice! Wait, did I say that already? Anyway, she _was!_ ” And then, Jester let out a dreamy sigh.

_(Damn, someone could think she was actually in love with Spiderboo.)_

“She sounds like a good person. Whoever that is,” Beau fumbled with her words a little bit there. It wasn’t like she was trying to compliment herself, but okay, maybe she had just done that.

“She is!” Jester made a tiny nod, and _she looked SO convinced_ . “But…” her expression faltered a little bit. “I mean, I talk _a lot_ about Spiderboo already, do you really want me to, like, talk even more about her?”

“Well,” Beau tried to move a little bit, as her right arm was beginning to lose circulation, but there wasn’t much room for that, really. And it was just then that she realized Jester’s arms were still around her, hugging her, and _ah_ , she could feel Jester’s hands on the top half of her back, moving a little bit in no particular pattern, as if Jester didn’t realize she was doing that. It was strangely nice, “you look so happy talking about her. And sound so happy too. So I guess talking about Spiderboo and Spiderboo herself is one of your passions, yes?” Jester nodded. Beau exhaled through her nose. “Then it’s just fine! As long as it is about something you enjoy, I could spend hours hearing you talk without getting tired.”

_(That… that had been a little bit unprompted, right? And probably cheesy. Gosh, had Beau just been cheesy? TO HER BEST FRIEND? WHAT WAS WRONG WITH HER?_

_The brain cell snorted. What a jackass.)_

“Are you for real?” A weak purple-colored blush appeared on Jester’s cheeks.

_(Ugh, Beau, just shut up, what are you doing, your mouth is running faster than your brain._

_‘As if it was a novelty,’ the brain cell said with a sigh.)_

“Oh, you bet I am,” Beau let a relaxed smile out, as she felt her tension starting to finally sip away from her bones.

_(She just had to ignore the intrusive thoughts her one and only brain cell was sending. She just. Had to do that.)_

This was nice. This was familiar again.

“Okay. Okay! So. Where to start?” And yep, maybe that was going to be a long afternoon, and maybe Beau wouldn’t go home until it was nighttime, but hearing Jester talk about something she was so passionate about, the light of the TV with the videogame on stand by illuminating her silhouette, her best friend, right then and there?

Beau thought it was worth it.

  
  


\---

  
  


Okay, Beau wasn’t _THAT dumb_ . She knew she had had a lesbian panic attack with Jester. It had only taken her the entire bus ride back home and half an hour petting Frumpkin to reach that conclusion, yes, but she _Had Realized_.

Now, that didn’t mean anything! And she had even written down a list of reasons why what had happened didn’t mean shit:

    1. Jester was pretty. Full stop. Undeniable.
    2. Everyone who met Jester became a little bit in love with her. That was undeniable too. She was just that charming.
    3. Beau was a lesbian. She knew that, Frumpkin knew that, everyone knew that! Well, Beau’s parents _didn’t_ , and obviously the rest of the family (her little brother, aunts, uncles, her grandparents, cousins…) didn’t either, but come on!
    4. Beau was a _lonely_ lesbian and she was _thirsty_. She had to admit it. Shocking, wasn’t it?
    5. It was impossible to not be a little bit in love with one’s friends. Jester was Beau’s best friend. Everyone fell a little bit in love with Jester.
    6. _She had been SO close to Jester._
    7. CONCLUSION: Beau didn’t like _like_ Jester, it was just the normal lesbian panic a lesbian girl felt when being close to a cute, charming girl who also happens to be her best friend.
    8. PLUS: She wouldn’t kiss Jester, thinking about it calmly.
    9. PLUS PLUS: Beau had a crush on Yasha.



_(And again, she WOULDN’T kiss Jester.)_

And yep, that was it! Beau didn’t have to think more about it. Never again. That hadn’t happened. Jester who? Ah, yes, Beau’s best friend, a cheerful, charismatic, amazing, beautiful blue tiefling.

...Wait, were all those adjectives really necessary?

_(‘Oh, you really tell me,’ the brain cell said. The popcorn bag was endless, apparently.)_

In any case, Beau had other things to attend to. Like university. Always university. And more cats who had gone up to places they didn’t dare to jump from. But Beau got to pet many cats, that was good.

And then, something happened three days after she had met with Jester.

That day, Beau was alone in the flat. Caleb had gone to the campus, he had a meeting with that guy, Essek, and _for once_ it wasn’t where Beau could see them. Amazing, really. Beau had never heard about a PhD tutor _visiting_ his student at his shitty ( _VERY shitty)_ apartment, the one he shared with this girl who had just gone past him like a tornado the first time they had seen each other.

_(Cool first impression, that was for sure.)_

Like, Skope and Discard were a thing. You know. People didn’t have to meet in person to have an actual _meeting_ , like In Ye Old Days. And yet, there he had gone.

_(Beau wasn’t that dumb, oh, no. Mr. Pretty Eyes was overall pretty, but she didn’t want to think about *that* possibility, nuh-huh. Not thinking about Caleb’s love life today, not thinking about Caleb’s love life *ever*.)_

But all in all, it was technically incorrect to say Beau was alone that day at their flat. She had Frumpkin, after all. Not that the cat made a lot of company, that was Beau had forgotten about him in the first place.

_(That was why Beau had left the TV on, even if she wasn’t watching it. From her place in the kitchen she could hear about some explosion in Nicodranas that had happened a few days before, Beau wasn’t sure when.)_

But then he, the cat, was there, looking at Beau sitting on top of the kitchen counter, while Beau waited for her pizza to _fucking cook_.

Yes, it was 5 pm. Yes, Beau was having dinner already. Yes, she had forgotten her money at home, her phone too, and of course anything similar to a meal at home. Yes, she was proud enough not to ask anyone to pay for her food.

So there she was, disregarding her part-time job as a heroine to eat a pizza. Aaaand a cat was looking at her.

_(With everything that had happened in the last few months it sometimes took Beau a little bit to assimilate she was still leading the life of a money-less university student. And it happened the other way around, too. After spending so much time as a superheroine it was kind of a shock when suddenly the thought of that assignment she had to do for the next day came to her mind while she was, apparently, stopping a robbery in the middle of the street._

_“Oh, yes, here’s your purse, ma’am. Now, sorry, if you excuse me I have to… uh… throw a ball,” so Beau had gone home and had started animating a stick figure throwing a ball. Great assignment, that one. She got a sad ‘pass’. A VERY sad ‘pass’._

_Oh, being a superheroine, for what? For Miss Vysoren to look at you with exhaustion in her eyes and tell you “okay, Beauregard, it’s a pass, but please, can you work harder next time? I know you can do better’.)_

“Meow?” Frumpkin tilted his little head as his deep amber eyes seemed to pierce Beau’s soul.

...That cat was weird. Like, you had to be _weird_ to get along with Caleb, and that was not even a diss. Beau herself had a good relationship with Caleb. But no, Frumpkin… there was _something else_ in that cat. Like he knew _stuff_ . Beau couldn’t specify more, just… _stuff._

He had a certain depth in his look, a certain weight. And okay, cats were usually quite intelligent (intelligent enough to ignore the fuck out of you), but Frumpkin… Guessing it had been previously a stray cat, it was surprising how well-behaved and hell, they didn’t even have to teach him to use the litter box. Actually, Beau hadn’t ever seen him use the litter box, which was kinda worrying if you thought about it, as that definitely meant Frumpkin was shitting somewhere else. And yet, Beau saw Caleb clean said litter box regularly, and there seemed to be whatever came out of Frumpkin’s ass, indeed.

_(Admittedly, Beau wasn’t that much time at the flat. Frumpkin was probably doing his business whenever Beau wasn’t there. It wasn’t THAT deep.)_

...Why the hell was she thinking about cat shit, anyway?

Oh, yeah. Train of thought while you wait for your pizza. Right.

But Frumpkin was a weird cat. Full stop.

Just then the timer went off and the oven lighted up. Finally! _Finally._ The pizza was done.

Stomach rumbling in anticipation, Beau stood up and took out the pizza from the oven as carefully as possible. It wouldn’t have been the first time she had burned herself with that... evil… machine. Yep, the oven was an evil machine.

So, she took out her pizza, cut it under Frumpkins attentive look (“this is not for you,” Beau hummed to him, the cat meowed in response), and took the plate to the living room.

_(She was going to be a well-mannered person for once, she was going to eat on the dinner table instead of eating on her bed. C’mon, someone should be proud of her for making that effort.)_

And at first, she thought she had been too focused on her pizza and how good it was (it was better than ever, a pizza was always better when you were _hungry_ ). That was definitely why she hadn’t noticed how Frumpkin had climbed up to the table and was looking intensely at her food.

“Do you want some?” Beau said, offering part of the pizza crust to the cat. But Frumpkin immediately turned his head away. 

Okay, mood. The cat didn’t want the crust.

“Then I think you’d better be on the floor or I’ll have to wash the table cover again, and I think we washed it three days ago—” Beau said to the cat (but not really, she was talking to herself), as she carefully took Frumpkin and dropped him on the floor.

The thing was that the next time she looked up from her pizza, Frumpkin was again in the same place, looking at her again without making any movement to try and steal a portion of pizza.

Huh.

“Hey, buddy, don’t do that,” Beau sighed, and made the same movement again, taking Frumpkin to the floor as the cat meowed in protest. “Just stay there.”

“Meow,” that was an annoyed meow, if Beau had ever heard one.

But anyway. Now, her pizza—

She looked up again and there it was Frumpkin. The cat. The fucking cat himself.

“Okay, what the fuck,” Beau, thinking of the table cloth, was starting to get annoyed. It was a nice table cloth. A very nice one, really! It had white and blue stripes. Beau liked that table cloth.

When Beau tried to pick Frumpkin again, the cat used his claws to grab onto the cloth.

“UGH, don’t do that!” Beau cried out loud. With some struggle, she managed to separate the cat from the table cloth. “You know what? You’re out. You’re grounded. No, don’t give me that look,” Beau got up and took the cat outside the living room. “You stay here _for now_ ,” and with those words, Beau closed the door and came back to her pizza, ready to _finally_ fill her stomach.

Except that when she looked up, Frumpkin was there _again_.

“How could you…?” Beau started. The cat looked at her. It was starting to get beyond weird. Although Beau wasn’t precisely one to talk.

Okay, okay. Beau took a deep breath. She knew what had happened. She had closed the door to the living room but Frumpkin had been faster and had managed to slip inside the room without being seen. It was perfectly reasonable, wasn’t it?

So Beau made the same thing as before (lift the cat, separate the cat from the table cloth, take the cat to the hallway), and then she looked through the crack of the door until it was fully closed.

Frumpkin hadn’t moved. Good.

Beau turned around.

…

Beau blinked. She blinked again. 

Frumpkin was _already_ on top of the table.

Beau opened the door with haste _and the cat wasn’t there._ It was the same cat. She had just left Frumpkin outside the room. But Frumpkin was now on top of the table. Probably because he just wanted to hang out there. But that wasn’t the important part, the important part was that the cat had _fucking teleported directly to the table_.

…

Honestly, Beau didn’t know if she should feel surprised. Should she? She was staring at a cat that could teleport himself, TV speaking in the background, the cat looking back at her, his long tail moving rhythmically. Frumpkin _looked_ like a normal cat. But that cat wasn’t _obviously_ a normal cat. Maybe not a cat at all.

But the thing was, Beau could stick to walls and ceiling and shoot fucking spiderwebs with her hands.

…

No, but seriously, _what the fucking hell—_

Okay. Okay. Beau took another deep breath. Then another one. And another one. Probably the wisest option was to talk to Molly. Tell Molly. Yes. Bring the cat to Molly, probably. Yes, that seemed like a good idea. Why Molly and not Nott? Because Nott would totally freak out and scream and alert the entire street and probably come up with crazy theories, even crazier than what Beau had just witnessed. 

Yeah. She could tell Nott. But she would tell Nott _later_. Molly was probably a better option. Just probably. 

“Stay _there,_ ” she said to Frumpkin, who was still looking straight at her. Beau didn’t get her hopes up, though, the cat had _ignored_ her the previous five or six times. But she had to try.

2 minutes and she was already in her Spiderboo suit. Surprisingly, Frumpkin was still there when she came back to the living room.

“Good. Good,” Beau took yet another big breath and cradled the cat against her chest. She immediately felt the claws _sinking in._ Oh, at least he wasn’t going to fall, then. “Please, _don’t teleport. Or blink._ Or whatever you do,” Beau tried to ask nicely as she made her way to the balcony.

“Meow?” Frumpkin said.

“Yep, meow,” Beau took a look at the street, trying to see if there was _anyone—_ and yep, the street was empty.

_(Did anyone live there apart from them, Nott (Veth) and her family, and Pike Trickfoot? Beau sometimes doubted it.)_

So, apparently, if someone gave Beau a pin for every time she had swung around the city with a screaming cat _clawing for his dear life_ to her chest, she would have two pins. Which wasn’t much, but it was strange it had happened two times.

“MOLLY?” she had landed on Molly’s balcony, closing it behind her. “Molly, are you home?”

No response. Maybe she had to take a risk by coming without calling, but Molly didn’t have to work that afternoon, she knew that much.

_(She should have called anyway, right?)_

“MOOOLLY,” she called again, going straight to where she knew was his room.

“Yes! Yes,” finally, the voice of the tiefling came accompanied by a rustling sound from his room. “Give me a second! Or five!” And a door closing.

Just as Beau got to his door, mask still on and Frumpkin without relaxing even a little bit, Molly appeared under the door frame, wearing a maroon robe and hair disheveled.

“I was asleep,” he said, as he tightened more the robe’s knot. “Sorry. A cat? Oh, your cat. Why your cat?”

“Huh…” Beau took out the mask. She was kind of heaving a little bit. “You’re not gonna believe this.”

“Oh, surprise me,” Molly would have surely rolled his eyes, he had _that face on_. He was leaning on the door frame now, arms crossed.

“Oh, you’re gonna shit so hard after this,” and not without difficulty, Beau pulled Frumpkin enough to separate him from his chest.

“Oh, I’m gonna have to sew that, don’t I?” Molly lamented.

“I mean, yeah,” Beau shrugged, “but that wasn’t what I came here for.”

“Okaaaay?” Molly let out a puff of air.

“Just look at the cat.”

“Okay, I look at the cat.”

“Okay,” Beau said.

“Okay,” Molly echoed.

“Frumpkin,” Beau hadn’t exactly planned what she was going to do now. But she was crossing her fingers for it to _fucking work_. “Could you please blink? Or teleport? Or whatever you do? Please?”

“Meow?” Frumpkin looked at her with innocent eyes and licked his nose. Oh, so _now_ he was playing dumb.

“Pleeease? Pretty pleeeease?” But that dumb fucking cat just meowed again. Beau let out a frustrated noise and, without thinking, she dropped the cat.

And the cat didn’t touch the floor. There wasn’t any cat anymore.

Molly and Beau stood there, both of them looking at the floor, mouth agape.

There was a silence.

“Beau.”

“Hmm.”

“Beau.”

“Yes?”

“You were holding a cat, right?”

“I was indeed holding a cat.”

“Where’s the cat?”

“Hmm?”

“I asked you where is the cat,” Molly finally lifted his eyes and looked at Beau.

“Fuck me if I know.”

“Where. Where is the cat?” Molly asked again, a layer of panic in his voice.

“He teleported.”

“He teleported,” Molly deadpanned.

“He teleported _somewhere_ near, probably,” Beau said. “Keyword: probably.”

“Where would have—” But Molly stopped short. Beau had heard it, and Molly had obviously heard it too.

_Someone_ had sneezed inside Molly’s closet.

The silence that followed gave place to three more sneezes. Molly was looking straight at some point behind Beau.

“So,” Molly continued. “Where would your cat be?”

_(That fucking asshole—)_

“Molly, I think it’s in your closet,” Beau deadpanned. “You know. With the person who’s _also_ hiding in your closet. Who, apparently, _is allergic to cats._ ”

“...Hi,” and a sneeze, and fuck her, Beau _knew_ that voice.

“Oh, hi, Fjord.”

“Hi, Beau. Mollymauk, can I come out now?” And a new sneeze. "This is getting _—_ " another sneeze, " _—_ Oh, no, I have to _—"_

“NO,” Beau and Molly said at the same time, but Fjord was already stepping out of the closet in just his sweatpants.

“I’m sorry, my eyes are crying and I can’t take it—” he was trying to clean his eyes with the back of his hand, and then he sneezed again as Frumpkin came out of the closet and teleported to Beau’s chest with a hiss.

_(Okay, the little buddy hadn’t liked that. Being in a closet was never comfortable, Beau definitely knew that. Fjord did too._

_Now, Fjord—)_

As Fjord looked up, Molly covered his face in some kind of shameful move. “Some kind of shame” because Molly literally didn’t know what shame was. And Beau? Beau was too pained by the cat’s claws to _begin_ to try to hide behind the door.

Aaaand the cat was out of the bag. Or the closet. Again.

“B-Beau…?” Fjord started, full-on nasal voice. 

“Yes?” Beau tried to sound casual. But her voice came out an octave higher.

“Why are you wearing Spiderboo’s suit?” As Fjord said that, Molly seemed to shrink even more where he stood.

“Oh, this?” Her voice turned out even higher. “Y-you know, dude. Captain. It’s. It’s obviously a c-cosplay!” Beau let out a _very tense_ smile.

There was another silence. No one moved except Frumpkin, who (thankfully) stopped clawing so intensively to Beau’s chest.

“Yyyyeah. Right,” Fjord nodded very slowly. 

“You don’t buy it, right?” Beau said, defeated.

“Nope. Not even a little bit.”

“Okay, okay,” Beau sighed. It was One Of Those Days. Just, weirder than the previous ones. “Whatever. Surpriiise! I’m Spiderboo. Or whatever. Don’t tell. Anyways,” she had said all of that without an ounce of emotion, and then she turned towards Molly, “leaving on the side that you’re fucking my gym buddy—”

“We’re not—”

“It’s not—”

“Ah, but I can see the hickeys, so if you _aren’t,_ you at least were _close_. Sorry about _that_ too, I guess,” Beau rolled her eyes. Now it was Fjord the one who didn’t know where to hide, and the closet didn’t seem such a good idea anymore. “ _In any case_ , have you seen what Frumpkin just did?”

“Who’s Frumpkin?” Fjord asked.

“Her cat,” Molly said.

“This cat,” Beau pointed at the cat with her free hand. 

“And _yes_ , I just _saw_ that.” 

“Can someone explain to me what’s going on here?” Fjord said. “Please? I mean, okay, you’re Spiderboo. That’s a shock. How—?”

“Later,” Molly lifted a hand. “First the cat, then the spider impersonator.”

“Hey, you know, you can call me Beau—”

“Spider impersonator,” Molly repeated, and that was it.

So, it kinda went like this:

Beau took out the suit and Molly gave her one of his robes. They all three sat around the living room table while Beau explained how she had found Frumpkin (something Molly knew, but Fjord didn’t), and how she hadn’t realized the cat could do that until that day. In the meantime, Molly was hand sewing the little holes present on the chest area of the suit.

And then Beau had summarized the “being Spiderboo” thing to Fjord.

“Got bit by a weird spider, boom, aaaaaah, what’s this? Powers. Cool powers! I could help people. I’m gonna help people. Oh, fuck, now everybody knows me. Oh, fuck, I told them to call me by this name in a moment of panic. Oh, wow, a cute cat, I’m gonna take him home. Oh, hello, Molly, what are you doing in a dark alley. Oh, Molly, you’re gonna sew a suit for me? How sweet of you. What? You want a dryer? Okay, I’ll go to the TV so they give me money for a dryer. But why is this weird person with a mask following me? Boom. End of story. We can go back to the cat.”

“Okay, but I actually have quest—”

“So, Molly, you saw it,” she felt bad for Fjord and his questions, but _the cat_ was the only thing occupying her mind. Like, in any other circumstance she would have been worried about, you know, someone discovering her identity. But on one hand it was Fjord, he wouldn’t even hurt a fly. On the other, Frumpkin.

“I indeed saw it,” Molly looked for a second from his sewing. “Girl, how do you do it?”

“What do I do?”  
  


“Attract problems.”

“Are you calling a magic cat a problem?”

“I mean, how would you call it?”

“A cat. Frumpkin, if you let me.”

“Oh, it’s your problem, you can call it as you please.”

“I don’t think calling Frumpkin a problem is the correct word,” Fjord interceded. “I mean, it kinda is a problem for me, but just because I’m allergic...”

“See? Thanks, Fjord, I knew I could trust you,” Beau said. “It’s just Frumpkin, the small magical striped cat, how could he be a problem?”

“Again, how would you classify this cat?”

“As a…” Beau stopped a second to think. “A surprise...?” That got her a snort from Molly.

“Well, it is a surprise. Or not so much,” Molly shrugged.

“What do you mean?” Beau frowned.

_(Thank you, Molly, for being so enigmatic and leave everything hanging in the air.)_

“I mean that I’ve been doing some… research,” Molly cut the thread and made a ball with the suit, throwing it at Beau. “Here, it’s done. But yeah, I’ve been doing some research due to… _something_ I saw.”

“Oh, wow, I think you’re great when you explain stuff. Very informative.”

“I can’t confirm anything so there’s no point in giving you something else to think about,” Molly shrugged. That was… fair. But now Beau was going to be thinking about _what the hell_ had Molly seen. “The thing is, some _weird_ stuff has been happening recently. And I’m not only talking about you getting powers and having a cat who can teleport himself.”

“Like what?” Asked Fjord before Beau could open her mouth. Gosh, he had just received that load of information and wanted even MORE?

“A believed to be extinct species appearing again, the same dog disappearing from the house of 16 different families, a weasel which seems to be immortal. Just this and that, and that’s just the stuff that could have a certain scientific explanation,” Molly shrugged. “I’m still investigating. It’s not like I can confirm anything. But yeah, the thing is that now and then, as the years pass, someone comes up with a terrible story of having seen a fairy or some shit. And okay, no one has seen a fairy _this time_ , but there are a lot of these stories going around right now. You can see the peak it’s making, and the stories keep appearing. Some seem fake as hell, but others are too detailed to not think ‘hey, this might be real’. Normally they all seem fake. This, combined with your circumstances, and now your surprise cat named Frumpkin… It seems _a little too much._ ”

“My point here is,” Molly went on. “That we might be dealing here with something bigger than a weird spider”

There was a silence. And okay, what Molly said had an ounce of sense, at least. If all those things were happening at the same time… And okay, after Beau’s experience and what she had seen that day, it wasn’t that difficult to believe that all those people weren’t that crazy.

_(Or it was something like a shared hallucination. That was an option at that point.)_

“In any case, it isn’t like I can confirm anything,” Molly said with a sigh. “It could be a radioactive spider. Some kind of failed experiment, some science-fiction shit. Quite unbelievable, but not magic. Now, with Frumpkin… It could be…”

“...That he’s a really fast cat?” Fjord suggested.

“Sure. A really fast cat,” Molly accepted. “That dog could just be quite good at escaping, and the weasel could be alive just because the scientists aren’t trying hard enough. The extinct species could have just survived all this time unnoticed. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Sure,” Beau managed to say. She felt a little bit shaken, not gonna lie. “Not the first time,” she echoed.

_(“It’s gotta be something else,” said some voice inside her brain, and for once it wasn’t her brain cell._

_Maybe she had had a secret second brain cell all along. At that point of the day, she wouldn’t be surprised.)_

“Gosh, my head hurts,” Fjord leaned forward and buried the head between his hands. 

“Quite a lot to grasp, huh,” Molly said jokingly.

“And to think you had come here to fu—”

“BEAU,” Molly interrupted her.

“Okay, okay! I was just joking. Jeez, the atmosphere was so tense…” Beau laughed awkwardly. She was the first one who was _tense_ there.

_(Just because, somehow, everything seemed to have her as a center._

_Oh, not the dog and the weasel, you know. Well, as far as she knew.)_

“I should be going anyway,” said Fjord, standing up. “I’ll come to hang out some other day.”

“Sure. Sure!” Molly was fast to answer as he stood up.

“I mean. As long as you want me here—”

“I mean, I want you always here… well, not always, but darling, you’re a delight to be around,” Molly said and _oh, fuck, they were both getting slightly flustered._

_(How THAT had happened, that was a story Beau had to ask about another day. You don’t meet someone casually through a common friend/gym buddy and suddenly you’re in his house making out with him. Obviously, Beau had missed something there, duh.)_

“Anyways, since I don’t have clothes here, I’ll suit up and get going through the window, if you don’t mind,” and Beau didn’t even expect an answer. She grabbed Frumpkin, who had been lying around in front of Molly’s TV all the time, and headed to Molly’s room.

_(She had a lot to think about. Gosh, that would take away her will to sleep for a week, at least.)_

“Wait, Beau,” Molly called her before she could make it out of the living room. Beau stopped in her tracks.

“Hm?”

“Do you think your flatmate knows about Frumpkin?”

  
  


\---

  
  


Oh, hell no. Beau was not asking Caleb if he “knew about Frumpkin”. They had a good relationship, but not _that good_.

“I came back and you and Frumpkin were out?” Caleb said-asked as Beau entered through the door, Frumpking cradled in her arms. Sleeping.

_(SLEEPING. AFTER SWINGING THROUGH HALF THE CITY. WHAT THE HELL. And not only that, he had kept quiet when Beau had entered her room through the window, changed her clothes, gone out the same way she had gone in, and had made a detour so she could enter the building through the front door as a normal person would.)_

“I thought he ate my tablet pen. So I took him to the vet. Turns out he’s fine and I just have lost my tablet pen again,” Beau said nonchalantly. 

_(No, she hadn’t thought of a better excuse.)_

“Oh… okay,” and that was all they had talked about that night. 

But as it turned out, Beau wasn’t unable to sleep that night. Surprise, surprise. As if she could stop thinking about that afternoon.

At least it seemed Frumpkin knew he was partially responsible (the detonator, actually) for her state, so he came to sleep with her. His presence was comforting, but at the same time, it wasn’t. It was comforting because he was a cat, and who didn’t love cats? People with bad taste and people who were allergic to them, and only the latter had Beau’s respect.

However, it wasn’t comforting because his presence reminded her of _everything_.

_(The spider, the powers, the person with the mask, the cat, the magic, magic? Was it magic, for real? Gosh, the Beau from a few days before, the one who spoke to Mr. Clay at the bus stop, would laugh. She would laugh a lot._

_What keeps the world going? What keeps everything from falling apart when there supposedly no gods, no magic, and not even science can explain?)_

“Ah, shit,” Beau straightened up. Without thinking too much, she tied her hair up in a bun and got into her Spiderboo suit. 

She was surprised when she saw it was only half-past midnight. Or that was what the clock of the city hall said. Still, a decent hour for people to look for trouble. And indeed she stopped a girl from getting robbed (or worse who knew these days) and a fight between a couple of drunk goliath guys who threatened the safety of all of those who were around them (disadvantages of being bigger and taller than your average person, apparently).

It was when she had been roaming the city for about half an hour when an old guy with dark skin and white afro hair approached her as she was standing on the ground.

“Excuse me, are you Spiderboo?” The man asked with a chill voice, and just then Beau realized he was blind.

_(What was a blind man doing alone at that hour in the middle of the street? That was a good question. But oh, Beau was filled with pretty good questions right then.)_

“Uh… yes, I am. Can I help you?”

“Yes, yes. I’ve heard a strange noise coming from that direction,” the blind man pointed to what seemed to be a building under construction. “I’d check it myself, but I have to get home soon. Could you take a look?”

“Yyyeah, sure,” Beau blinked a couple of times. So, the blind man would have checked it _himself_ but he had to get home soon. Oh, alright then. 

_(There was already something in Beau’s mind that was lighting in red.)_

“Thank you. Have a peaceful night,” and the man made a small bow before continuing his walk. Wherever he was going, yeah.

Okay. Okay. Beau turned around and faced the building under construction. Just, what else could go wrong that day? 

In a matter of seconds, she had made her way inside the skeleton of the building. It was dark as fuck, but her senses made her able to see her close surroundings. Construction equipment lied around the place, forgotten. A couple of bricks here and there, the occasional wooden plank, and even just… a staff. Just a long, cylindrical, piece of wood, almost as tall as her. In an impulse Beau grabbed it. It seemed like a good weapon, given the chance.

No sooner had she grabbed the staff, she heard a low crack behind her. 

She turned around as fast as she could, and her head started hurting before she could process who was that person.

_(Ah, fuck. It had indeed gotten worse.)_

The person dressed in white went forward in a split second, no longer worried about making noise, and grabbed the staff Beau was holding, pushing against Beau.

“ _YOU,”_ the person said as they shoved Beau against the closest pillar, now using the staff to contain her in a chokehold. _"NEED TO TALK.WE "_

_(The hit against his back hurt more than the pressure the person was making against her windpipe._

_Still, what a way to talk, huh.)_

_“WHO ARE YOU?”_ The person in white asked

“Oh, changing questions, are we?” Beau’s comment came out strained, as she was trying to push the staff away from her neck.

_(But… the person wasn’t even trying to choke her…? It didn’t seem like that.)_

_“WHO ARE YOU,”_ the person repeated, and with that, they started grabbing the staff with just one hand, as her right hand went directly for—

_(“Your problem is still that you’re predictable.” said Dairon in his mind. “You’re strong, you have the potential”._

_She just had to do the unpredictable, then. Even if it was a rash decision.)_

Beau let go of the staff. That immediately made the person in white lose its balance, and Beau dodged their right hand, which was going straight for her mask. 

Then she grabbed the end of the staff and pulled as hard as she could.

The person in white let go of the staff so they could avoid crashing against the pillar. Beau had then the staff in her hands.

She didn’t even think, again. Spiderbeau used the staff as if a baseball bat was against the back of the person in white’s head.

The seconds seemed to stretch as the person in white fell to their knees, emitting a groan. With a hit against their chest, Beau managed to knock them on their back.

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” Beau said, a degree of _something_ dark in her voice. Dark, because she didn’t know WHAT THE FUCK SHE WAS DOING. But it seemed to be working in her favor. She straddled the person’s body and got the staff to the person’s neck.

“Okay… okay…” the person continued to groan, unable to do much apparently, as Beau’s heartbeat fastened more and more. She had hit them pretty hard, apparently. 

_(She was sorry, but not that sorry.)_

With one hand, she maintained the staff where it was while she lifted her other hand towards that hateful mask which was already making her wish she could unscrew her own head from her body to stop feeling that pain.

She pulled the mask away, and really, it wasn’t that fixed to the person’s face.

Now, when she met the gaze that was trying its best to focus on her, Beau couldn’t hide her surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, today I bring you a cliffhanger (or what intends to be a cliffhanger). Tomorrow? Who knows. 
> 
> You should have, like, two realistic options, when talking about who's the person behind the mask. Really. There's literally two realistic options. It's not that difficult, my imagination isn't THAT GOOD.
> 
> And oh, right, hi Shakäste, bye Shakäste. I don't have that many guest characters left, *please*. I think there's only Calianna left. Just because I don't really remember the ones from the first campaign, sorry.
> 
> If you thought this chapter was plot-heavy, I'll let you know that the next chapter is already at 2 pages. Of planning. Just. Me planning what's going to happen. Don't get your hopes up, though, I will be at a loss again when that one is finished. I hope I can get that one done fast, though. I know I'll probably will, I'm so EAGER to write it. If I'm not as fast writing it, please know that it's because some professor decided to fuck my free time. 
> 
> Also, yay! Fjord gets IT and Molly gets IT! And I guess Fjord is in it now too. I think Beau hasn't fully processed it yet, though. Because. Well. Frumpkin. Haha. And Jester! Oh, Beau, you panicked lesbian, falling in love with your best friend. And of course, Nugget and Sprinkle, small mention to them.  
> ...There's so MUCH to talk about in this chapter, don't you think? So I think that's why I'll just leave it here.
> 
> Take care, wash your hands and don't go out without your facemask, my friends. We'll see how this goes ;) . Be safe out there!


	10. You didn’t let me finish, actually.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, a cult,” Beau concluded.
> 
> “If it makes you happier thinking of it as a cult, then yes, it is a cult.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know. I should chill a little bit.
> 
> I'm no historian, for starters. Also, I'm so fucking UNSURE of this chapter, you have no idea. And, like, I'm the only one who has read it and proof-read it, yet again. I hope this is not a mess. I really hope so. If you don't understand something please just tell me and explaining that thing will probably make a good addition to next chapters (?). Also, as always, I would appreciate if you, dear reader, told me any grammar/spelling mistakes you see.
> 
> Anyway, thanks to Liza, Isa, Misha and Ari for their moral support. Love you all. Also thanks to the 1h Loona Piano Cover Compilation videos. You got me through this chapter (and the previous ones). More notes at the end, as always.

“Oh, fuck off.”

That was literally the first three words that came out of Beau’s lips when Dairon’s eyes finally focused on her.

“Wait,” the elf coughed a mouthful of blood. Had Beau done that? Yep, she had, she had actually… she had made _Dairon_ spit blood, “Beauregard?”

…

_(Oh, fuck *me*.)_

It was awkward. Beau felt awkward. Astonished, but awkward. That moment was awkward. And kinda humiliating if you thought back to all the prior times they had fought.

_(Not as Dairon and Beau, but as the headache-blurry-person and Spiderboo.)_

“N-no…” Beau tried to disguise her voice with a very deep tone.

But Dairon was faster (oh, they _ALWAYS_ were faster) and FINALLY lifted Beau’s mask with a swift pull.

“You. You are,” Dairon moved their mouth but no more sounds came out. Their head hit back against the floor. “This has been _so stupid_ —”

“Hey—”

“You could have told _us_ since the beginning! What the hell!” With a shove, Dairon managed to push Beau aside and straighten up.

“Hey, look, I don’t know—”

“What a waste of time, fucking _gods_ ,” Dairon let out a hysterical laugh.

Now that Beau could _actually_ look at them, like _really look at them_ , no mask which could give her headaches, she found that, surprisingly, it was _fucking obvious it had always been Dairon_.

At that point in her life, Beau could have recognized Dairon’s frame anywhere, even under that plain white hoodie and those plain white baggy pants. Not that Beau could have even seen what the hell were they wearing until that moment. And not only that, but the style of _fighting_. The way they had to kick her ass. That same strength. Like, really, it wasn’t that fucking difficult. And yet...

It had been the mask’s fault. It had been the mask’s fault. The mask, somehow, didn’t let Beau or anyone, really, _focus_ on the person who was wearing it. Dairon, in this case.

_(It just… what the hell do you want heightened senses for?)_

“The irony is killing me, and yet it makes sense,” Dairon grunted. Then they grabbed the mask, which now looked like a very plain, boring white mask, and threw it against the pillar. It didn’t break, just made a noise that echoed through the building under construction. “This is… This—”

“You know, you could at least explain to me what the hell you’re talking about right now. And, you know. Before too. I feel _kinda_ left out. Do you remember all those times when you tried to kill me? Because I DO,” Beau blurted out as she lowered her mask again and left the staff she had been still holding on the side.

“Well, I’m _not_ trying to kill you now.”

“I already realized, yeah,” Beau deadpanned.

_(Beau thought for a single second that there existed the slight possibility that she had just been killed by whoever the person under the white mask really was and all of that was just an after-death experience._

_Or maybe she was just dissociating. A lot. Probably Dairon was too.)_

“And I _never really_ tried to kill you,” Dairon added.

“Sounds fake, but okay,” Beau said in the same tone as before.

_(Dairon had fucking shoved her off a building’s wall and Beau had landed on top of Mr. Clay’s car—)_

“I _really didn’t_ ,” Dairon said through their teeth. 

_(Oh, but hey, wait. Wait a second._

_Had just Beau kicked Dairon’s ass? Had she just done that? With Dairon’s own advice, on top of that?_

_Poetic justice. She would kiss herself, Beau. She deserved it. President of having Dairon’s ass kicked._

_“Once,” the brain cell said._

_Okay. Once. Duh. Still a win for the lesbians, the lesbians being Beau.)_

“So… don’t you have some explaining to do?” Beau started, seeing that Dairon didn’t talk, their eyes fixed at some point in the horizon.

“Oh, I have. And so do you,” Dairon said with a sigh. They finally stood up, got the white mask from the floor and finally, offered their free hand to Beau. “C’mon, my car’s on the street. I’ll get you to the Archive.”

“What?” Beau said, not taking their hand yet.

“It’s obvious you don’t know what the hell is going on, or you would’ve attacked us a long time ago. So, I’m trusting you and your lack of knowledge, for now. Do you trust me enough to not think I’ll put you in a chokehold, at least?” Dairon’s hand shook a little bit.

Beau had never seen them shake.

It took a few more seconds to get her own head settled, though. Okay, Dairon was the headache-masked-person-in-white. Cool. Couldn’t have predicted that, but since it was so obvious once the mask was gone, Beau had kinda already gotten used to the idea. It wasn’t like she had any suspicions about anyone before. It could have been anyone, almost ANYONE in Zadash, and yet it was Beau’s trainer at the Cobalt Soul. Great. Cool? Cool, okay. 

_(Not cool, actually, she would have to give it a thought or two. Later.)_

That was the first point. First step. Whatever you wanted to call it. Admit who your enemy (enemy?) is. Was. Was? Is? Whatever.

_(Just. Whatever. Let’s skip that. Beau might have already assumed it, maybe not. Who knew? Not her.)_

The second and last part of that whole situation was that the question wasn’t if Beau trusted Dairon at that moment, or any point, really. 

The real question was if Beau wanted answers.

  
  


\---

  
  


The entire ride to the Cobalt Soul Archive had been uncomfortable. Dairon drove in silence. Beau tried to ask something ( _“Who are you, really?”_ ), but Dairon just shushed her.

And that was it. Beau hid behind the tinted-glass windows of the backseat, and on top of that she was lying there. _‘Don’t let anyone see you’_ , was the last thing Dairon had said before getting into the car. The position wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, not at all. Beau had had worse. But the situation _was_.

At some point, Dairon finally stopped the car and got out, opening Beau’s door too.

“No one’s here. You can come out,” and so that was what Beau did.

The Cobalt Soul Archive building looked even _older_ at night. Maybe it was because it wasn’t illuminated at all. As in, even the lamplights weren’t working. It was _the darkest place ever_ , probably.

And yet, Dairon started to walk towards the doors, white mask in their hand, as if nothing happened and _oh, right. Elves_. And their fucking darkvision.

_(As in, Beau had acquired a certain degree of darkvision with her powers, right. But still, fucking elves.)_

“In,” was the only thing Dairon said after opening the front door. 

_(They had the keys, huh.)_

Well, all in all, that tingle in the back of her neck that usually alerted her if there was any immediate danger wasn’t there. That was good. Still, she kept her guard up as she crossed the familiar (and yet suddenly unfamiliar) threshold. 

Dairon closed the door behind Beau, and she could hear the sound of the keys clinking until they returned to Dairon’s pocket.

_(Still no tingle. Good.)_

“Follow me. Up,” Dairon said, and they started to walk through the hallway, past the practice room, the bathrooms and the locker room. Dairon took her to the third floor (all of the floors looked quite the same, to Beau’s surprise. Locker rooms, practice rooms, the occasional storage room) without a word, and there _to Beau’s surprise_ , there was an elevator.

An elevator with a _keyhole_.

“Uuh… Couldn't we just come up on this?” Asked Beau, although she hadn’t seen any doors leading to elevators on the prior floors.

“No,” and Dairon took out a key that had been under their clothes, hanging around their neck, and put it in the keyhole.

The elevator lightened up and in no time the doors had opened, and the light that came from inside almost blinded Beau’s eyes, already accustomed to the dark.

“What are you waiting for? Come in,” Beau could barely see Dairon’s figure inside the elevator, her eyes squinting.

In any case, Beau just followed the light and soon enough she was inside.

The elevator wasn’t that big, really, and they spent enough time inside for Beau to realize that they had been going down (down, probably, like, the building was 3 stories high, that was it) for quite a while.

_(Beau had suspected a basement existed. But how deep into the earth was really that basement? Was it even legally allowed to have something built so far away from the surface? Beau would have probably known that if she had studied Law, like her parents wanted her to._

_Or maybe it was just that the elevator was very slow. Still, something told Beau to lean more towards the first option.)_

With no sound, the elevator suddenly stopped. Dairon then opened a small panel on one of the walls of the elevator with a small key that was _also_ hanging around their neck, to reveal a small scanner and a microphone.

“Password?” Beau almost jumped when they heard that voice coming out of _nowhere_.

“This would not have happened if the Raven Queen was here,” they said to the mic with a sigh and rolling their eyes, and then immediately put their palm on the scanner.

“Uuh…” Beau started.

“I don’t choose the daily password,” Dairon cut her before Beau could even think of what to say.

_(A Raven Queen? Sounded dumb as hell. Queen of birbs. Haha._

_...Let her be, she had to keep her mind focused on something else.)_

The elevator continued going down from then on for about 10 more seconds, and then the doors finally opened, and they revealed a large, illuminated gray hallway that was… surprisingly full of people, all of them wearing the usual attire Dairon used to train with Beau.

“What the hell…” Beau started as Dairon gently ushered her out of the elevator.

It wasn’t just a large hallway, but a large hallway with a fuck ton of doors. And, as Beau had already realized before, quite a bunch of people given the fact that it was past 1 am. Furthermore, like, most of the people present were _old_ . Or at least quite a bit older than her. Not old-old, _per se._

The majority of these people entered and exited through the different doors, although some of them had stopped in the middle of the hallway to chat. The thing was that they weren’t really _paying_ attention to her. That was new, given the fact that she was in full Spiderboo costume. They just looked at her for a couple of seconds, some of them said hi to Dairon, and then came back to whatever they were doing.

Oh, and the doors. All of them had small signs in which you could read “Archive 1”, “Archive 2”, “Archive 3”, “Laboratory 1”, “Storage A1”, “Storage A2”, “HR”, and more. 

_(Well, at least they had a Human Resources room.)_

Now, they had been walking for quite a while, turning around corners and descending through stairs quite a few times, and this was beginning to be _a little bit too much for Beau to keep being quiet._

“What is this place?” she asked after the third set of stairs, already preparing for a grunt on Dairon’s end.

However, she got a different response.

“Weren’t you the one asking why the ‘Archive’ in Cobalt Soul Archive?”

_(..._

_Ooooh. Oh._

_Oh, right._

_..._

_OOOOOH.)_

“But you’ll be able to ask more in a few minutes,” Dairon said. “For now, don’t talk. These people knew you were going to come here, but they are not allowed to know your identity. Just in case.”

“Right,” Beau said in a whisper.

Okay, well. Time to put in order everything Beau was getting from that situation.

Dairon had always been the masked person. Okay. Yeah. Seemed legit. They weren’t trying to kill Beau anymore, and that was great. They were, obviously, under the Cobalt Soul building. A place that seemed to have quite a few security measures (handprint recognition? Daily password? Like...), and the people down there seemed to pertain to the Cobalt Soul, indeed. Now, there were a lot of “archives” down there, so as Dairon had said, it was then obvious why the place was called “the Cobalt Soul Archive”. Every person there seemed to have been expecting her, _Spiderboo_ , to appear that night. With Dairon. So, Dairon had gone on purpose to convince Spiderboo, whoever it was, to go to the Cobalt Soul Archive with them. But hey, no one (else) there had realized it was Beau! That deserved a high-five. From herself. A high-five from herself.

Now, what did the Cobalt Soul actually do? Like, yeah, the place was an archive, although Beau didn’t really understand the whole training-place façade. Nor what they were actually archiving. And there were a whole lot of other questions and mysteries just. Lying around Beau’s brain. 

_(Shhh, don’t wake them up or Beau would start running her mouth again. Or screaming her lungs out of confusion.)_

After descending a fourth set of stairs Beau found they were in front of another elevator. This one had another handprint recognition scanner, a retina scanner, and also a voice recognition system which _apparently_ had another password.

“Ioun guards your path towards knowledge,” Dairon didn’t look that mortified while saying that one. The thing was that with a small _ding_ , the doors to the small elevator opened. With a gesture, Dairon let Beau step in first, and _down_ they went.

_(Just what kind of technology did the Cobalt Soul possess? How much money did that shitty place have?)_

“You can talk now,” Dairon said. “And you can take off your mask, if you want. Only a few people have access to this elevator.”

“Which people?” Beau repeated, not yet removing her mask.

“High-rank people from the Cobalt Soul.”

“So you’re part of these ‘high ranks’?” Beau asked.

“I’m… part, yeah. Though not everyone from my rank has the same privileges,” said Dairon. As if Beau knew what they were talking about.

_(Anyways.)_

“So… this is the _actual_ Cobalt Soul Archive,” Beau continued, just because she didn’t want to stay there in silence.

“One of them,” Dairon said. “There is another in Rexxentrum. A small one in Westruun. We used to have one in Port Damali, and another small one well-hidden in Nicodranas. Though I guess it wasn’t as well hidden.”

_(Huh. Port Damali and Nicodranas?)_

“There are others, sure. But those are the closest,” Dairon continued. The elevator stopped. There was another _ding_ and the doors opened.

This view was… a lot different than the last one. The room that welcomed Beau was quite small, and the walls were the walls of a _cave_. There was a certain grade of humidity in the air, and through the weak artificial light that illuminated the place Beau saw a giant stone door, around three meters away from the elevator.

“What is this place?” Beau asked as she followed Dairon out.

“Our Vault,” Dairon took off the small ring earring they always wore and put it against the stone door.

And that fucking door opened and _gosh, those doors were thicker than Molly’s ego._

“Quick, the doors are fast to close,” said Dairon as they run inside the Vault.

Thank gosh Beau’s reflexes worked that time. She stopped in her tracks just as the stone doors closed behind her.

And now, _that_ was a Vault.

The place was fucking enormous. So enormous Beau wasn’t surprised anymore it had taken so long for the elevator to get down there. And on top of all, the place seemed to be a natural formation. Oval-shaped, the rocky walls of the Vault reached their top high in the center of the area. Beau guessed the ceiling was probably around 20 or 30 meters away. The whole area seemed to be illuminated by small light spheres (light spheres) that were just. Floating. In the air.

Beau finally took off her mask just in case _she was seeing it wrong_.

“Beauregard, follow me,” but by then, Dairon’s tired voice sounded a little far away so _shit, Beau, go after them._

Beau found herself walking among rows and rows of pedestals, all of them with objects on top of them. Each object had small notice signs below them, but Beau couldn’t stop to read any of them.

_(A pair of gloves, some weird-looking goggles, at least three different wands, a dagger, another dagger, a staff with a big stone on top, a simple backpack, yet another dagger, dagger, oh, a single glove…)_

Dairon was waiting for her in front of the only empty pedestal she had seen. Dairon placed the mask they had been carrying around there, almost too carefully, and then turned towards Beau.

“Well. Now we can talk.”

“Now?”

“Now. Ask all the questions you have.”

“Didn’t you have questions too?”

“Oh, I’ve already figured some out on our way here. And the others? First I want to know how much you know,” Dairon said calmly.

“But I don’t know shit. Like, really.”

“You probably know something, though. Is it easier if I ask you questions?” Dairon asked.

_(Well, at least they were calmer now than they were in the building under construction.)_

“You can… certainly try that?” Beau was quite unsure there, obviously. But oh, well, she didn’t know where to start. So whatever was good.

“How did you become Spiderboo? And tell me the whole truth, not only what you told in that interview.”

_(Oh, boy, Dairon had started strongly.)_

“I mean,” Beau snorted. “It’s not like I understand what happened,” she started, but Dairon’s look made her keep talking, “but… I got bit by some kind of… radioactive spider? And suddenly I had these powers. I don’t know where that spider came from, though.”

“I have an answer to that,” Dairon said. “The spider came from here.”

There was a small silence.

“From… the Cobalt Soul?”

“From this Vault, exactly,” Dairon specified. “It somehow escaped unseen, made all the way to the main building and probably bit you there.”

“It actually bit me at my apartment…?”

“Then it’s even more astonishing. The spider probably climbed on your clothes or your backpack and made it all the way to your apartment before... biting you,” Dairon constructed that hypothesis out of thin air.

_(Although that pause had been quite weird.)_

Oh, but there was something there, for starters, that—

“Why are you so sure that the spider came from here?” Beau asked.

“See? You finally know where to start,” Dairon cracked their neck, massaged the bridge of their nose for a couple of seconds, and then looked straight at Beau. “Beauregard, do you believe in magic?”

…

That was baffling, really. Or not so much, considering the weird turn of events of the last two months. Moreover! The turn of events of that same fucking day!

_(Gosh, Beau suddenly felt fucking exhausted.)_

“Given… certain circumstances,” Beau began, and she saw how Dairon’s eyebrows arched, “I _now_ believe magic might be real.”

“Oh, it _is_ real. Just not really as people like to describe it when talking about myths and legends,” Dairon said. “But don’t get me wrong: magic was a big thing so many years ago. 1453 years ago, in fact. Then something happened.”

“What?” Beau might had just asked ‘what’, but she didn’t know what she was asking about.

“Our hypothesis, the Cobalt Soul hypothesis,” Dairon said, “is that some kind of cataclysm occurred. We don’t know its nature nor what originated it. But it separated this plane from the rest. This screwed up all the magic and magical items, and also distanced the gods from us—”

“Wait. Wait—,” Beau cut them. _And Dairon was talking so naturally_ — _,_ “Planes? Gods?”

“Yes, planes. The Feywild, the Shadowfell, the Astral Plane, the Nine Hells, and many more. Uncountable. You might have vaguely heard of them through legends and children's stories. The same goes for the Gods. The Raven Queen, the Dawnfather, the Platinum Dragon, and again, _many more_ ,” Dairon put some stress on the last two words.

_(Her thoughts during that conversation with Mr. Clay came back to mind._

_…_

_Oh, fucking hell—)_

“S-so…” Beau cleared her throat. “You’re telling me that all of this, the Gods, magic, the planes, was an actual big thing 1445—”

“1453, give or take,” Dairon corrected her.

“—Years ago, right?” Beau finished.

“That is correct.”

“And you know all of this because…?”

“Because that is what the Cobalt Soul has always been about,” Dairon completed. “You should know that before a certain point in our history there are no real records of what was happening in the world. And then, from a certain year on, we have quite a lot of information about everything that was going on right then.”

“Right,” Beau confirmed. 

That was an actual thing, in fact. Something historians had been investigating for centuries. The first written text conserved dated from around 1400 years back in time, although it was obvious civilization had existed before them by the things they mentioned and the language used, and also because of some other archeological stuff like, you know, bodies and ruins. It was like, _boom_ , a lot of texts about the same age appeared, and nothing before them. It was also remarkable how, despite the quantity of the texts conserved, none of them talked about their past, but about the present time of their authors.

Oh, that drove historians _mad_. 

“The Cobalt Soul's main research goal is what was going on before that cataclysm,” Dairon continued. “And, obviously, we know _way more_ than any outsider.”

“And you know all of this, because…” Beau prompted.

“Because the Cobalt Soul is an organization that dates back to before said possible cataclysm happened,” Dairon answered. “We’ve always been seekers and protectors of the knowledge, so it is only natural that even back then we managed to keep some records about how life was before _it_ happened.”

“But you don’t know what this cataclysm was…?”

“Sadly, not a single Cobalt Soul archivist from that time seemed to think pertinent to describe in detail what happened,” Dairon said, a bitter tone behind their words. “In any case, we still know far more than anyone else. What other people think of as folk tales, passed down from grandparents to grandchildren, we know as truth. Gods exist, though far away from here. And they didn’t exactly abandon us, like it is said, or we don’t like to think they did. The different planes and, most importantly, magic, also exist. The planes? Disconnected from our reality. And magic? Not as we used to know it.”

“But I’ve seen… magic,” Beau managed to say, thinking about Frumpkin.

_(Oh, right, she had to ask about that funky little magical cat…)_

“Do you mean, apart from your powers and this mask?” With a gesture, Dairon referred to the headache mask.

_(Ah. Oh. Ooooh.)_

“Yyyeah,” Beau stretched out the word. Dairon looked a little bit surprised.

“You’ll tell me about that later,” they concluded. “For now, just listen.”

“As I said,” they continued. “Magic is not the same anymore. Not that big, not that impressive, not that… _obvious_ . And, in most cases, it has _changed_ its own nature. You see,” they sighed, “even if magic disappeared as we knew it, back in the day, there was something that remained. What remained were those objects imbued with magical properties.”

Beau’s eyes went straight to the mask, now resting on top of the pedestal.

“Indeed, the mask has magic in it,” Dairon confirmed, following the route of Beau’s eyes. “However, it’s a perfect example of what has happened to the majority of these artifacts: its power has faded and even _changed_ in some cases. We like to say that magical artifacts have… become defective. If not completely lost their power, being just relics of the past.”

“We retrieve every object anyway,” Dairon continued, as they took the mask again, now their eyes fixed on its white surface. “They are important to our history, and if they are defective then it’s clear they are better on our hands than in the middle of nowhere. Moreover, some are precisely dangerous _because_ they are defective. That is what happens with this mask. I guess you’ve been wondering about it, don’t you?”

“Yep,” why lie? Beau _had_ been wondering about it, as the rest of Zadash had, too.

_(And, like, really. She was too curious. Her brain was exploding a bit. Just a little bit. And for once her know-it-all brain cell had shut the hell up. Beau was a little bit “no thoughts head empty”, yes, but she already saw the breakdown coming once she was back at home alone.)_

“We can only guess what it was supposed to do,” Dairon said. “This was most certainly a mask imbued with the power of the Mask of Many Faces, or something similar at least. Our studies say this was some kind of blessing or spell some people were able to use, or a literal mask, in this case, and it let you change your physical appearance at your will for a certain period of time. However…” Dairon made an inhaling sound, “we’ve ended up with a mask that can make your figure _blurry_ , not completely transform you. As a side effect, I think you’re already aware that it also gives a headache to the people who are unlucky enough to look straight at it. But that’s not really all of it.”

Beau saw as Dairon extended the mask to her.

“You can try it on, if you want,” they said with a certain degree of nonchalance.

And that was when the scratching started.

_(Nope. No. Don’t put that shit on. That is bad.)_

“No,” Beau said immediately. There was a sly smile on Dairon’s face.

“Smart. Your senses are more refined since you have powers, right?” Beau nodded as Dairon put back the mask on its pedestal. Then they turned around and started to walk, not even looking if Beau was following or not.

Guess Beau had to walk too.

“The mask doesn’t only give a ‘headache’ to the people looking at it, but also to the person who is wearing it,” Dairon explained as they walked through the rows of pedestals. “That is the main reason why I didn’t discover you sooner, I can guess. You weren’t able to focus on me, but I wasn’t able to focus on you. We were even.”

“Oh. Comforting,” was the only thing Beau said, despite the fact that _Dairon was still kicking her ass even with such a big headache_.

_(Yes, Beau also HAD a headache when fighting against them, but it should have been EASIER!)_

“In any case, not every artifact we’ve found is here,” Dairon continued. “We guard the ones we can, but others are way safer in the places where we found them. So, instead of bringing those here, we have Cobalt Soul Agents guarding those specific places. This is the main reason why the training program exists, in case you’re wondering,” they looked back for a few seconds as they kept walking, “we offer self-defense training in order to find qualified people to guard these places, and also to keep looking for more artifacts. It’s simple. Though not everyone knows about what we really do, of course. It would be too dangerous to let every new recruit know.”

“So that’s… that’s why you picked me?” Beau asked.

_(As in, they literally picked her. Beau wasn’t supposed to be in the Cobalt Soul and Dairon hadn’t given a fuck. Just like that.)_

“You have what it takes. Might have been a complete disappointment in the end. It happens. But you’re now in it, whether you like it or not,” Dairon pointed out. “Whether I like it or not,” Dairon added with a sigh.

_(Fair.)_

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Beau started, “but this sounds kind of like a cult.”

“It’s an order. One that dates to before the disaster, as I said. We used to follow the designs of Ioun, the Knowing Mistress. Now we just keep walking forward, trying to preserve what we can.”

“So, a cult,” Beau concluded.

“If it makes you happier thinking of it as a cult, then yes, it is a cult,” Dairon let out a grunt.

_(Oh, fuck, was Beau now kinda part of a cult, then? Had been for a while? What was the truth?)_

“Does the government know about the cult or… are you like, _super secretive_ about all of this?” Beau asked then.

“I mean, it’s obvious the general public does not know about this, mostly for their own safety. The same goes for the government, although I won’t deny we have people there. Just in case. As you’ll understand, if this information… magic actually existing, falls into greedy hands, who knows what could end happening? And if everyone were to know about this, who knows what the consequences of the shock might be?”

“I don’t think you can hide all of this forever, though,” Beau commented.

“We’ve been hiding it for almost 1500 years. We’ll keep the knowledge and the artifacts safe as long as we can,” was what Dairon answered as they finally stopped in front of another pedestal. This one had a simple leather bag on top of it. “Do you have any idea about what this is?”

“Uh… a bag?” Beau said.

“A bag full of balls. Yes, just as it sounds,” Beau was about to make a (panic) joke when Dairon continued talking as they took out one of the balls. Plain, white, simple. They showed it to Beau. “No magic. You see?”

“I see.”

“Wrong, it’s magical,” Dairon said as they returned the ball to the bag. Beau blinked quickly. “However, it’s only magical at certain times.”  
  


“At… certain times,” Beau echoed.

“Before I said that we’re no longer linked to the other plains, the gods, and so on, didn’t I?” Beau nodded. “That’s true, but also not entirely. See, every 207 years, more or less, something happens. To put our strongest hypothesis simply, every 207 we get close again to some other plains, without being actually connected to them. This brings some magic back into certain artifacts—”

“Wait. But 207 years? What a weird number,” Beau interrupted, her mouth running faster than her brain. Not that her brain was properly working, right. Dairon, ball in hand, closed their mouth for a few seconds.

“You tell me?” Dairon let out a huff and rolled their eyes. “It is a weird number of years, but it’s precisely because of these balls that we’ve managed to estimate that quantity. But as I was saying, yes, every 207 years some artifacts regain some magic, others lose it completely, and others suddenly become quite powerful. It seems to happen at random, but always after that number of years.”

_(That… still sounded so fucking weird.)_

“See,” Dairon repeated, “something happens every 207 years with this bag. We know for sure what it did before the cataclysm. It was simple. You took a random ball out of the bag, an animal appeared, and it became your companion for a certain undetermined number of hours. Fought for you, obeyed your orders, that sort of thing. Then it disappeared automatically, coming back to the bag. _But_ ,” Dairon took a deep breath, “again, its powers changed with time. As you’ve been able to see, I’ve taken out a ball and nothing has happened.”

“Uh-huh,” Beau nodded. It was a fucking ball. Like a ping-pong ball. Was she supposed to believe that _that_ could transform into an animal?

_(Apparently? Yes. Why was she surprised given her current experiences, honestly? She couldn’t be surprised. Beau just couldn’t.)_

“What happens every 207 years is that at least one of these balls transforms into an animal without anyone taking it out of the bag,” Dairon explained. “We have evidence that a tiger, a giant hyena, a crocodile and some kind of venomous snake went rogue on these occasions. The most recent one would be the hyena, it seems it was quite a great animal, although she didn’t follow anyone’s orders. It was just a… big dog that didn’t need food nor water. The Archive called her Hilda and it survived for 15 years after coming out of the bag. And yes, she was the last one,” Dairon said. And _then,_ when Beau thought they were done talking about giant hyenas named Hilda, Dairon went on with the sentence, “...until that spider, apparently.”

There was silence.

_(Ah, yes. If Beau hadn’t been dissociating until then, she would have probably started dissociating by then.)_

“That spider,” Beau echoed.

“That’s right.”

“ _The_ spider.”

“The spider.”

“The one that bit me?”

“That’s what we think, yes,” Dairon confirmed.

“The spider that bit me was a ball that came out of this bag,” Beau said.

“We are pretty sure it used to be a giant spider, but by chance when it got turned again into an animal it _wasn’t_ a giant spider anymore. Thus, it managed to get away unnoticed,” Dairon explained. “It had to sleep out when one of us came out of this room, go out in the elevator, go through four basements, get into _the other_ elevator, go down three floors and _find your backpack_ , or your own person,” Dairon didn’t seem to believe what they were explaining, but there it was.

_There it was_.

“And that’s… your hypothesis,” Beau ended up saying.

“The one with more chances to be true, yes.”

“And you’re telling me that _this spider_ , _somehow arrived at my backpack_ , waited until arriving at my apartment to _bite me_ , and then got the fuck away? And that is what gave me powers?”

“No,” Dairon said.

“Oh, for fuck’s—”

“You didn’t let me finish, actually,” Dairon interrupted. “Our hypothesis points out that, actually, the spider didn’t bite you, but it _fused together_ with you. It’s the only way, based on previous investigations around other magical artifacts, we can imagine a magical animal could give you powers.”

…

_(Beau was about to just. Pass out. Or get the fuck out of there, go to bed, and tomorrow would be a brand new day! No spiders! No weird cults! Just an artist stressing over having lost her tablet pen again!)_

“You’re kidding,” Beau let out a nervous laugh. “You must be kidding.”

_(She was so fucking close to lose it. So. Fucking. Close.)_

“We reached that conclusion,” Dairon didn’t laugh. Oh, _they weren’t laughing at all_ , “after your TV interview, judging by the things you said. Also, we _checked_ it was being aired live, so that put you out of the list of suspects. Of course, we had to seek an explanation for your powers that went beyond _‘she has an artifact we haven’t discovered yet’_.”

“Dairon. Look,” Beau took her hands to cover her face. Fucking shit— “There’s a problem here, and that is that you keep talking about stuff _I don’t know about and my head is close to exploding_ ,” Beau looked at them through her fingers. “What suspects? And also,” she had a sudden realization, “that ‘artifact you hadn’t discovered yet’... that was what you wanted me to return?”

“About your last question: yes,” Dairon made a dismissive gesture, _as if that wasn’t the question that had been eating Beau up for fucking weeks_ , “about the list of suspects, I’ll get to that now.”

_(Fuck you, why there was so much info? And Beau could just listen and nod and occasionally ask questions, she was feeling kinda stupid.)_

“All of this has been background, so as one says,” Dairon started again, and finally returned the ball to the bag. 

_(Background. Dairon had called all of that ‘background’.)_

“What is currently happening, apart from _you_ , is that someone has been attacking the places protected by the Cobalt Soul, and the Cobalt Soul Archives themselves. You’re probably aware of the mysterious explosions that have happened in Port Damali and Nicodranas, right? Those were our archives,” said Dairon before Beau could answer the question. “ _Someone_ is destroying our archives.”

And yes. Yes, she was vaguely familiar with all that had been going on. Beau didn’t watch the TV, practically, but she had _heard_ about that.

_(...Veth was talking to her about her supposed nemesis, in the background she could still hear the TV’s constant talking. The morning news were on, they were talking about an accident that had occurred a few days before in Port Damali…_

_...The pizza was heating in the oven that same afternoon, Frumpkin looking at her, sitting on the counter. From her place in the kitchen she could hear about some explosion in Nicodranas that had happened a few days before, Beau wasn’t sure when…)_

“Judging by your expression, you know what I’m talking about,” Dairon said. “Someone attacked those places. And the only _real_ suspect was you. But obviously that wasn’t you. And if you have something to do with it, well… let me congratulate you, you’re a great pretender and have fantastic allies.”

“It wasn’t me. I had nothing to do with it,” Beau said, her voice a little void.

“That’s good to hear. Not that we can trust you completely, for now, but we could not _not_ contact you already, given the circumstances,” Dairon explained. 

And suddenly they straightened up even more, and their expression became hard as a stone. 

“In any case, here’s a summary of the situation, taking the 207 as the pinnacle point when magic has been stronger: until now, every 207 years the Cobalt Soul has managed to keep the situation at bay. Every artifact was secured, no one got hurt. But now, someone unknown keeps attacking the Cobalt Soul Archives and restricted areas. We don’t know who it is, or what is really their objective, but they steal every magical object and kill everyone and everything in the process, even destroying the buildings themselves. This is obviously _someone_ who knows what the Cobalt Soul is really about, and by each artifact they steal, they become more powerful, and thus, dangerous. We’re pretty sure all of this has a bigger purpose than just becoming powerful, bigger than _ending_ the Cobalt Soul. But as there aren’t survivors nor records of any kind, we, and sorry for the expression, know _shit_. There could be a single person, there could be multiple people.”

“Whatever their intentions are,” Dairon continued, “they can’t be good. We keep and protect these artifacts for a reason. None of them are stable. None of them work the way they should. And nowadays, magic, and moreover _this_ kind of magic, can create the end of the world, provided it ends up in the wrong hands.”

“This all sounds…” Beau’s mind was blank, but she felt she had to say something after a few seconds of silence. “ _Fucked up_.”

“It is fucked up,” Dairon made an almost imperceptible nod. “And don’t get confused, you are affected by this on a _personal_ level. You’re a _visible_ person who has _powers_ that look too much like _magic_.”

_(Oh, no. Ooooh, no.)_

“You might have, unknowingly,” Dairon breathed heavily through their nose, “made yourself an objective for this person _or_ this group of people. They might want your powers, or they might want you as an ally. For whatever They are planning to do.”

There was a heavy silence. 

_(Great, Beau, you put a target on your fucking back, and people who had already destroyed two whole Cobalt Soul Archives were probably trying to get you. That sounded great. Amazing. Fun-fucking-tastic._

_She was going to have a breakdown. Yep. Yep. Yepyepyep.)_

“S-so, what do you want me to do?” Beau made an effort to pull out those words.

“Be on your toes. If They try to kill you, survive. If They want an ally, negotiate. Get information. I want to trust you won’t agree to whatever They offer you, of course,” Dairon said, and it kinda sounded like a threat. Gotcha. “Who are They, what do They want, and if it’s necessary —and it _will_ be necessary—, stop them. For this last task, of course you can count on the Cobalt Soul’s full support, as long as They don’t destroy this place. 

“Of course it’s obvious They know where we are, though,” Dairon continued, “we are not exactly hiding. But we don’t know if They’ll attack Rexxentrum first, or any other of our protected areas, for starters. We are also starting to relocate what we consider are the most dangerous artifacts —which, by the way, are not in this room anymore. Some of these things are just duplicates. Finely crafted, but definitely not magical. Also, They’ll wait for the right time. We are, in any case, reinforcing our security measures. It’s not like we’re giving up without a fight,” Dairon shrugged. They seemed too calm about all of that.

_(THEY SEEMED TOO CALM ABOUT ALL OF THAT. BEAU WAS FUCKING FREAKING OUT.)_

“Oh, and I guess this is too much for you right now,” they added. “I would ask you if you’re willing to help us or not, although it’s not like you really have a choice. We can give you a day to mentally go through all of this. Not more, not under these circumstances. I hope you understand. Please, return to the Cobalt Soul tomorrow, first thing in the morning, with an answer. We’ll get down to work with you starting from that moment. Is that clear?”

“Y-yeah,” Beau answered out of instinct, but she wasn’t really there anymore.

_(She didn’t have a choice. Wow, fuck. Why did they give her a little bit more than 24 hours if she didn’t really have a choice? Okay! To mentally go through! Fuck that! How was she supposed to mentally go through shit? Here! Have all of this bat-crazy-ass-shit info! You’re also in great danger! Have fun!_

_No! You don’t do that? You don’t do that! Someone had to give the Cobalt Soul a quick course in how to handle matters with tact! Or at least Dairon! Give Dairon some classes!_

_‘Look at her!’ Shouted the brain cell. ‘She was a perfectly fine superheroine. A little bit dumb, but we can’t do anything about it. What have you done to her? You just broke her!’)_

“Great. I’ll take you back to the building under construction,” Dairon nodded, and started to walk towards the exit, already taking off their earring. Beau, obviously, followed them.

_(That shit was magical too, right? There was no one a fucking normal earring could open a door like that.)_

“I have another question, Dairon,” Beau said, tone void, once they were back on the elevator, the mask covering again her face.

“Shoot.”

“Was it necessary to pay an old blind mind to point me to the building under construction?”

And that was exactly the first moment Beau ever saw how Dairon’s face changed to one of pure and utter _surprise_.

_(Oh, no.)_

“What the hell are you talking about?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guessed it was Dairon, then congrats! If you didn't, well, who's the only person who can kick Beau's ass? There you have it (of course there are more hints here and there, but yeah, it's a good summary). But some guesses were quite good. Putting myself in the mind of a reader, though, I could only see Reani and Dairon as possibilities (for example, no way it was Jester, and Yasha would have been a good choice if this had been a Beauyasha fic. No one suggested guys, though? Which surprised me).
> 
> No, it's not a mistake Beau forgot to ask about Frumpkin in the end, don't worry. I'll get there. Also, the mentioned objects are kinda made up but not kinda. As in, the bag exists but not with those animals (the Giant Hyenas are part of them, tho. We called ours Eufrasia). About the mask, eh, just a wild guess. It could exist. 
> 
> I don't have so much from the next chapters. Right. I'll start working on them, but these past three weeks are *not* the new normal. I've already said I've been quite busy and despite that I've managed to write this. Now I'm not that busy anymore, but who knows about the plot? I don't! I know shit! And this should be right in the middle of the fic, by the way!
> 
> ...Uuuh, anyway? I read your comments, as always. Opinions, feedback, you know the jazz. Please. Take care, wash your hands and don't go out without your facemask, my friends. Be safe out there!


	11. Bad day. Bad week. Bad life, actually.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> molly doesnt know about you either ://
> 
> he even said “who?” when i asked about you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIVE, but barely. My exams are over but I'm anxious as heck because too many things went wrong! But it's okay! I'll get over it!
> 
> I wrote 75% of this while I was very VERY anxious, so I think I get how Beau's feeling. Yep. Also this is shorter than the previous chapters because -hand gestures-. Yep.
> 
> Not really betaed, but I read through it a couple of times -shrugs-

_“I had been following you in my car for 15 minutes. I saw you enter the building under construction, but from my position I couldn’t see who you were talking to before that. I just thought it was a good place for a sort-of-ambush, or whatever you want to call it. But whatever. In case it wasn’t clear, don’t talk about this to anyone. Anyone. Do you hear me?”_

That was what Dairon had said before the elevator doors opened.

Now she had just retold _every fucking piece of info_ to Molly, who sat in front of her, both of them chilling in the tiefling’s living room.

Hah, “chilling”, Beau fucking wished, she hadn’t slept for almost 40 hours.

She barely remembered how she had made it back to the apartment. Everything before that was engraved on her mind, though. Beau couldn’t stop reliving the entire conversation she had had with Dairon. Now, that had just been an aggravator if she thought about the anxiety attack that had finally overpowered her once she had gotten to her room.

_(Everything was so, so wrong.)_

She knew she had calmed a little bit a couple of hours later. She had come out of her room and had gone to the kitchen to steal one of Caleb’s infusions. One that hopefully would let her sleep. Not that it had worked in the end, but at least she found herself gradually less and less anxious.

And then, she had had time to think. Not to mentally go through all of it, as Dairon had said, but thinking was okay.

It was okay.

_(It wasn’t, but okay. It was wrong, everything was wrong on so many levels.)_

Beau could believe magic was real. Beau now _believed_ magic was real. She had seen it. Hell, she was magic, or you could describe her like that. Even if it kinda sounded cheesy, putting it like that.

_(She had unwillingly fused with a magic spider, what the hell. There was nothing romantic in that.)_

And that was the gist of it, wasn’t it? Magic was real. That was the base, and that was what Beau had to accept over any of the other things Dairon had told her. Oh, some strange stuff was happening here and there? Because of magic. Was Beau a superheroine? Because of magic. Someone might want to kill her? Because of magic.

Simple, if you put it like that. Still stressing as fuck. 

Beau had been so tired and so distracted that she had barely thought about the fact that Mr. Pretty Eyes had entered the kitchen in pajamas (Caleb's pajamas?) while she was preparing her breakfast.

“ _Good morning,_ ” he had said in a too dignified manner. _“Caleb is still asleep.”_

Beau had only grunted in response. Essek Thelyss hadn’t insisted. Beau could at least tell he looked as uncomfortable as her. Which was fair.

_(Though probably for different reasons. Please, Beau had barely slept, and here Mr “he’s my Ph.D. tutor” had probably slept... with Caleb. She didn’t even know when Essek had arrived! Or even if Caleb had told her about it. Maybe he had._

_Beau hadn’t checked her phone in almost 24 hours, and for once it wasn’t because she had forgotten it somewhere._

_But anyway…)_

She hadn't even gone to class. It would have been suicide. She was too tired. Anxiety came back a few hours after taking the infusion. Mr. Pretty Eyes had eventually left the apartment with Caleb, who really, hadn't said anything to Beau apart from a _"when did you get back?",_ to which Beau had just shrugged. She didn't know, anyway.

Beau's phone didn't stop buzzing, so she eventually turned it off. Before that, though, she got to see she had messages from Jester, Fjord, Veth, and Molly. Also quite a lot of missed phone calls from Jester.

_(Hah, Caleb hadn’t told her about Essek staying for the night! Whatever. It was his business. He was old enough to make his own good/very possibly bad decisions.)_

She couldn't deal with that. Not right then. Although thinking about how worried Jester was made her feel worse. 

Eventually, Beau slept a little. She didn't know for how long. Half an hour tops. When she woke up, though, she put on her Spiderboo suit and went directly to Molly's house. 

_(It was a miracle she hadn't killed herself while swinging that afternoon, honestly. She had to thank the magic spider for that, apparently.)_

Dairon had told Beau to not tell anyone? Too bad. 

“I KNEW IT,” Molly basically jumped out of his sofa as soon as Beau said _‘hey, magic exists, apparently’._

“Well, did you also know the end of the world is near?” Beau blurted out. Molly looked at her, expression blank. “...Just kidding. But not entirely. We don’t exactly know! Isn’t it fun?”

“It doesn’t sound fun.”

“It isn’t fun.”

“Guessed as much.”

So, Beau proceeded to tell him all about what had happened that same night. And yeah, sure, Beau knew it wasn’t exactly pretty. She had been an anxious mess since Dairon had started to speak. Beau thought she was going to feel more relieved as she kept talking, but the faces Molly was pulling were not exactly helping her calm down.

_(She felt a little better, though. That was good.)_

“So, summing it up,” Molly didn’t talk until Beau finished, “an actual magical spider fused with you and gave you powers, because apparently magic exists but it’s quite fucked up, the Cobalt Soul investigates and keeps this magic away from the world, but there is Someone out there who’s attacking the Cobalt Soul and stealing every magical artifact, and thus this puts you in quite a delicate situation since They could see you as an enemy or as a possible ally.”

“That’s… quite a good summary, actually. You left out the Big Disaster Thingie that actually fucked things up, though.”

“Oh, you’re right. Still, I don’t think that’s something that matters now,” Molly shrugged. “What matters is that this is one of those years in which magic has started to act crazy and that has triggered just about everything else, right?”

“Well, yes. You still didn’t mention all the planes and Gods thing—”

“Unnecessary background info,” Molly interrupted.

…

Well, alright. Unnecessary background info it was.

“Oh, and they told me to not tell all of this to anyone, so,” Beau leaned back on the sofa. “You know…”

“What do I know?”

“Don’t say anything?”

“Don’t say anything about what?” And _oh_ , the smile on Molly’s face was _big._ Beau could only laugh, and that lifted such a weight out of her chest… she needed that. She really needed that.

Gosh, she loved that purple asshole, didn’t she?

“But really, all of this?” Molly continued, “actually explains a lot. You know, the lack of history, the weird things that happen every once in a while, hell, I’m quite sure it will also explain the existence of certain races!”

“How so?”

“Tieflings,” Molly pointed at himself, “we’re obviously adapted to other types of climate. Why would we need to be resistant to fire, anyway, considering how Exandria is as a whole? Maybe that’s because we have more to do with other planes. And like, genasis, what’s their deal, even? Dragonborns? Kobolds? Of course, there are legends about dragons or elementals and whatnot, and we’ve always thought these legends were based on these races. But what if, _what if_ , these races exist because these legendary creatures were actually a thing? Think about it.”

“I'd love to think about it but, Molly, I’ve, like,” Beau massaged the bridge of her nose, “slept half an hour before coming here, and that’s all I’ve slept in almost 40 hours so really, don’t ask me that much.”

“Okay, right, I’ll expose you to more existential dread at other time, then. By the way, did you ask them about Frumpkin?”

…

Ah.

“I… forgot to do that,” Beau buried her face in her hands.

“Understandable, have a nice day,” Molly answered. “No, but really, it’s understandable. I would also have forgotten if someone had info-dumped like that on me. Probably. The good thing is, at least we know we aren’t crazy and that cat is definitely magical.”

“I still have to come back, you know,” Beau said. “I could ask.”

“Yeah, yeah, that whole _‘become our ally, we’ll support you! If not, well, fuck you, I guess’._ ”

“They _didn’t_ say that!” Beau scoffed.

“It sounded pretty much like that, though, am I right?” Molly made that face that made Beau think he was rolling his eyes. “Still, you obviously have to accept.”

“Do I really have to…?”

“I mean. I’d say your chances of surviving all of this increase if you have a big-ass organization that actually knows a little bit of what’s going on covering your ass. Not that I like the idea, either. The Cobalt Soul seems a little shady in their own particular way, not gonna lie,” Molly shrugged. “Still, this is the only way to get to the end of it, am I right?”

Beau honestly didn’t want to think about it, although when she went out of the Archive she already knew she had to agree. Dairon knew she had to agree. Even _Molly_ , who was the only person Beau could think of that might have had a different opinion on the matter, knew she had to agree.

Well, at least talking to Molly had been useful. Somehow, right? She felt better now. She felt _way_ better now. She would eventually tell Veth, of course, she wanted to hear Veth’s thoughts on the whole deal. Wait, did she? Like, yes, Beau did, but considering first and foremost why Molly had been her first choice and not Veth, Beau wasn’t so sure she wanted to hear Veth being _panicked_ . Oh, because _she would totally panic._

_(Also, wasn’t Beau supposed to, you know, not tell anyone?)_

...She could, like. Tell Veth something. Not all of it. Just a little bit of information. Enough to keep her happy but still keeping her in the dark about, err… Gods, and planes, and possibly the end of the world. That sounded right.

“Oh, wait,” before Beau finally answered, Molly’s phone started buzzing. “It’s Jester.”

“Jester?”

“Yep. This is the sixth time she calls today. You haven’t answered her texts yet, have you?”

“I… no.”

“Guessed that,” and so, Molly finally picked up the phone. “Hi!”

And Molly didn’t have to put his phone on speaker mode for Beau to hear Jester talking on the other end.

_“DO YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT BEAU YET?”_

“Actually, yes,” Molly said calmly. “She’s here with me.”

_“SHE IS??? LET ME SPEAK TO HER OH MY GOSH, WHAT A RELIEF!”_

“She’s asleep.”

_“OH. Oh. She is?”_

“Yes. She had a rough night, because…”

“I had a stomachache,” Beau said in a whisper.

“She had a stomachache! Yep. So she spent the morning sleeping and she just came to my house, because…”

“Because I had to return something I borrowed,” Beau blurted out.

“...She had to return me something,” Molly continued, not missing a beat. “But she was so tired she passed out on the sofa.”

_“Oh my gosh! Is she okay?”_

“She’s better than last night. I think,” Molly looked at Beau. Beau gave him a thumbs up. “Yep, pretty sure of that.”

_“Tell her to look at her phone whenever she can! I was so worried about her…”_

“I know, sweetheart, I know. I’ll tell her, although I think she left it at her apartment.”

_“No surprises here.”_

“No surprises here!” Beau choked on her own spit and started to cough. “Oh, I think she’s waking up now. See you on Monday!”

“ _WAIT—”_

But Molly had just cut the call.

“Do you need water?” The tiefling asked as Beau kept trying _to breathe_ , but oh, he didn’t move his fat ass from the sofa. “No? Oh, well.”

“M-Molly…”

“Listen, Beau, you go back home, pick your phone, and are a functional adult who actually responds to her friend’s text messages, do you understand? I’ve had both Fjord and Jester pestering me for a whole day. I didn’t know Fjord could ask _so many things per second_ , but I actually love him for that,” Molly shrugged. “Now, you go, you little magical spider!”

“Molly I-I’m still trying to catch my breath…”

“I told you to go, you little magical spider,” Molly reiterated as he stood up and went towards Beau, helping her to stand up. “Just keep me posted about the end of the world, you know. And, oh, something else…”

“What is it?” Beau was just giving up already just. Giving up.

“Could you ask the Cobalt Soul about the existence of people having healing powers?”

“What is… that about?” Beau took a few seconds to answer.

“Uuh… just ask, alright? For me?” Molly blinked rapidly. As if that made him any cuter. It didn’t. It definitely didn’t. “You know, the prettiest tiefling of Zadash?”

“Riiiigh… Yeah. Surely, why not,” Beau finally shrugged. “What do I have to lose, anyway?”

“That’s the spirit! And oh, just so you know…” so much for the person who was ushering her out of his apartment, right, Molly? “Yasha is coming back.”

There was a silence.

“Yasha is…”

“Coming back, yes,” completed Molly.

“To _where_?”

“To this apartment.”

“Oh. Oh, right!” Beau felt her cheeks heating a little bit. Just a little bit.

_(Damn, Beau, Molly *only* mentioned her name.)_

“So you have to be careful,” Molly continued. “You know, coming through my window without a warning. Unless you want to tell Yasha too.”

“W-what? N-no! I! Molly!” Beau sputtered out and felt herself going even redder. “In what world would I tell my crush I’m a superheroine?” She ended up blurting out.

Aaaand there was another silence. Molly blinked. Beau bit her tongue.

“Your crush,” eventually Molly said.

“Yes? My crush? Isn’t it… I don’t know, obvious?”

“Your crush,” Molly repeated.

“Yes, Molly.”

“Yasha is your crush,” Molly leaned forward.

“Y-yes…?”

“I… thought you were dating Jester?” Molly finally frowned in confusion.

_(Oh, but somehow, that made something explode in butterflies inside Beau’s stomach. Don’t pay attention to it, though. Not paying attention to it is the best Beau could do, right? That must certainly be nothing important.)_

“I am… not? What made you think that?” Beau tried to keep her tone even, but her voice betrayed her.

“I don’t know?” Molly started, but he immediately added. “I just thought… like, every time you look at her it seems that there’s no one else in the world. Like… like she’s your whole world? Does that make sense? Of course it makes sense. But, you know,” the purple tiefling shrugged, “maybe it was just my imagination.”

“Right. Yeah. Your imagination,” Beau echoed. 

_(Something had just died in her brain and it might have been her last brain cell._

_…_

_Ah, no. Her last brain cell was actually laughing hysterically. That bitch.)_

“But anyway, if you have a crush on Yasha I could introduce you two more… formally?” And Molly winked at her.

“What do you mean with that wink.”

“I’ll take that as a yes!” Molly just said. “Now, get out of my apartment.”

“Molly—”

“Out!” The tiefling repeated, actually putting the mask again over Beau’s face.

“Molly whAT DOES THAT WINK M—”

But Molly had just closed the balcony’s sliding door in front of her, waving his hand and mouthing _“bye-bye!”._

Beau. Beau had a lot of questions. But maybe it was better to not answer them. For now.

  
  


\---

_-You changed Jester ❤ to Jes ❤-_

_Jes ❤_

wyd??

aw look i saw this cat and i thought of you

[IMAGE]

or well of frumpkin

whos the teeny tiny baby kittie??

I NEED TO KNOOOOW

you busy?

animating???

i need help :(

im having a huuuuuuuuuge artblock and i have to do mr clays assignment :((

but i just think i need to comment my ideas with someone you know like that will probably clear my head a little bit

or put everything in order

beau?

are you there?

[IMAGE]

look at this tweet oH JDWCNKWNWM;E

OH MY GOD MY MOM TWEETED ABOUT MY BLOG

I GOT LIKE. 30K NEW FOLLOWERS IN FIVE MINUTES i love my mom shes the beeesssst

iT KEEPS GOING WHAT THE FUCK OH MY GOD

beau?

[IMAGE]

LOOK AT WHO FOLLOWED ME!!!!!!!!!!! IM!!!! ————

beau?

:(

well i guess youre busy or you fell asleep fast :(

its okay!!!! sleep tight

kissesssssssssssssssssssssssssss xxooxo

good morning beau!!!!

how you feeling??

hey where are you?

not coming to class? D:

:(

molly doesnt know about you either ://

he even said “who?” when i asked about you

beauuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaard

beuregaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaard

i called you please pick up :(

hey beau im worrying a little bit :(

or maybe like a lot

please pick up :(

beau i’m getting scared

i would call caleb but i dont know caleb

you have to introduce me to caleb you know he seems nice from what you say

but anyway :(

:(((

beauuuuu

[GIF]

this is how much im crying

beau!!!

someone just saw spiderboo look

[IMAGE]

damn she really seems to have a nice booty

next time i meet her i’ll try to pay attention to it hehe

although you’re the booty expert

you should come meet her next time!

well if she ever agrees to another interview

but she will right?

right??

beau :(

please ive already called you like six times where are you??

oh wait nvm molly picked up

ARE YOU SICK??? BEAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU T-T

YOU COULD HAVE TOLD ME I WOULD HAVE BROUGHT YOU SOUP AND CHOCOLATE

_Me_

chocolate is not good is your stomach is aching

_Jes ❤_

BEAUUUUUUUUUUUUU

YOU’RE ALIVEEEEEEEEEEEE

_Me_

of course im alive

sorry i worried you

ugh

_Jes ❤_

ITS OKAY BEAU I LOVE YOU

_(Huh._

_That message made Beau’s stomach do… something. Nothing to do with what Molly had said earlier.)_

_Me_

no but really sorry

i thought i was feeling better, thats why i went to mollys

but you know??

i wasnt That Well

_Jes ❤_

understandable :(

but i was so worried!!!

_Me_

and like you know me i left my phone at home so

yeah

but dw really ill be alive and kicking next monday

aaaand in class of course

_Jes ❤_

T-T

i really missed you today you know

_Me_

i missed you too jes :C

  
  


\---

_captain oh captain_

Sooooo

Beau?

Molly told me to not ask over text because it’s not safe

But just so you know I think you’re quite cool

And

I have a lot of questions

(Sorry in advance)

So could we hang out someday?

Soon?

Not in the gym obviously but like

You know

Hang out sometime

I REALLY have questions oh gosh you’re so cool I’m sorry

Molly is already fed up with me do you think he still likes me?

_Me_

yep

_captain oh captain_

Beau!! You’re alright!!

_Me_

depending on how you define “alright” but yep

_captain oh captain_

Oh :C

Sounds bad

_Me_

yeah

we can i dont know

try to hang out next week?

at some point?

_captain oh captain_

As long as I’m not bothering with the *wink* thing

_Me_

the what thing

_captain oh captain_

You know

*wink*

Your thing

_Me_

oh

oh right

nah dont worry we can

hang out during recess??? like there’s some point in the morning we both should have free at the same time

_captain oh captain_

Oh, for sure!

_Me_

can we talk about it on sunday or something tho??

im tired right now

very tired

_captain oh captain_

Sure :)

Talk to you later!

  
  


\---

  
  


_mollyfuck_

beau please PLEASE answer everyones texts this is madness

fr

  
  


\---

  
  


_Veth_

hey i got like two entire tuppers of leftovers i’m swinging by your apartment

caleb looks more malnourished every time i see him

cant you take a little bit care of him??

oh well ill do it mysELF

OH WAIT WHOS THAT PRETTY BOY

_Me_

caleb’s boyfriend

or phd tutor

who knows the difference these days!

_Veth_

HIS WHAT???????

TELL ME EVERYTHING ABOUT IT

_Me_

wish i knew something about it!

_Veth_

oh also there’s a nice gentleman asking for you

he wasn’t going away so i let him get into my apartment

he’s creepy

but in a nice way!

he’s also sweaty

(not in a nice way!)

just come already luc has already braided half of his hear

he doesnt look bothered

but who knoWS!

I DONT 

IM SCARED

_Me_

...

How did Veth even function was something Beau asked herself every day. Like, what was going through her mind to let a suspicious sweaty man into his apartment? Just because? What the hell?

_(She hadn’t still mentally processed everything that had happened to her in the last 24 hours, could life stop for a second? To let her think about everything? Sleep, maybe? Yeah, thanks.)_

And really, Beau was too tired for it. But she definitely wasn’t leaving Veth alone with a stranger in her house, a stranger that was looking for Beau. Like, for Beau? By name? Really? Apparently. 

_(She wasn’t actually alone, she was of course with Luc. But that didn’t make things better.)_

So Beau left Caleb very entertained watching TV while petting Frumpkin and knocked on the apartment next door. Veth was probably on the other end of the door because she opened before a second had even passed.

“You’re here!”

“I am!” Beau answered in a confused tone, but Veth was already grabbing her hand and taking her inside.

“I’ll be waiting outside with a frying pan. Just in case you need help!”

“Right.”

So, it was like this.

The Brenatto’s living room wasn’t exactly big. They didn’t really more, anyway (and Yeza’s salary didn’t get to pay for much more, although one would think a scientist would earn quite a lot). When someone who wasn’t a halfling stepped a foot inside the apartment, you could actually realize how small everything was in comparison. It happened a lot with Beau (and Caleb, the few times he had come into the apartment), but right then? With the huge man sitting on the small sofa, Luc standing on top of it as he braided his pitch-black hair? With the huge aura of confidence he emitted?

The living room was _microscopic._ And Beau wasn’t even in front of him.

_(On the bright side, her senses weren’t alerting her of immediate danger.)_

“Luc! Come here!” Veth scream-whispered, and the tiny halfling immediately jumped from the sofa and ran towards his mom, not without greeting Beau with a cheerful _“Hi!”_ as he ran.

And the door closed.

“Okay, so… Who are you? What do you want?” Beau asked with a sigh. 

“Ah, what I want…” The man hadn’t even turned around, Beau could only see his black hair with small little braids all over it and his ears, which were of a light teal hue. “You’re rushing a little bit here.”

Light teal skin? Always sweaty, or so had Veth said? A genasi, probably, that was Beau’s first thought. Genasis weren’t that common. In fact, it was likely Beau hadn’t crossed paths with a single genasi in her life. But of course she knew the basics.

_(She SOMETIMES paid attention to what the teacher said back in primary school, yes.)_

“Can you please just tell me? Listen, I didn’t sleep at all last night so I would appreciate it if you kept it sh—”

“Oh, I guessed you didn’t sleep that much last night, Spiderboo.”

…

It took Beau a few seconds to react to that.

First of all: how? Second of all: no. No, she just had to compose herself and act surprised and confu—

“Oh, don’t give me that face,” the man finally turned just enough so Beau could see his profile. Yep, very much sweaty, dark eyes, a widow’s peak where his front met the hairline, and quite an impressing goatee. He seemed to be wearing a dark blue suit, tie and all. “You’re not as sly as you might think. And I personally saw you last night, Beauregard Lionett.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about—” But a nervous laugh accompanied those words.

“In the building under construction. Or did you think that other elf had been the one that paid the blind man to point you towards it? I wanted to talk to you there, but someone came uninvited to the little party I had prepared.”

…

Oh, well. Guess it hadn’t been Dairon after all. 

“Are you with the Cobalt Soul or something?” Beau asked next.

“I’m not,” the man laughed, and he was smiling. “But please, this is uncomfortable. Could you sit down? The sofa is just big enough for the both of us.”

_(Strangely there wasn’t a single tingle in the back of her neck. So she was good, right?_

_...But oh, was she?)_

Carefully, still on guard, Beau circled the sofa and sat on the other end, as far as she could from the genasi man.

_(Which wasn’t, you know, a lot of space. It was a sofa for halflings, after all.)_

“I won’t bite you, you don’t have to be so cautious,” he continued.

“Aha,” was the only thing Beau said. “Who are you again?”

“You can call me The Gentleman,” said the man.

“Can I get an actual name?”

“No.”

“Guessed so.”

_(She had to try. Still, what kind of guy names himself The Gentleman? Oh, yeah, the same one who’s obviously carrying a gun quite well-hidden under his jacket.)_

“Doesn’t my name ring a bell, though?” The Gentleman asked.

“Hmm… no, not really,” Beau took a few seconds to actually think about it, although her brain most likely looked like mashed potatoes right then. “Should it?”

“Oh, not really. I was just curious about how much interaction you have with the police.”

“So you’re a criminal or something?” Beau asked, and impressively her fight-or-flight response didn’t activate yet. 

“You could say they are desperately looking for me,” was all The Gentleman said.

“Right. So, you want…? Because you want something. And knowing that you know _that_ ,” Beau rolled her eyes, “you’re probably gonna say something stupid like _‘oh, if you don’t do what I say I’ll reveal your identity’_ and whatnot.”

“You seem surprisingly chill about that prospect.”

“I prefer to call it _‘I’m too tired to give a single fuck about it’_ if I have to be honest,” Beau deadpanned.

And then, The Gentleman laughed. It was a deep laugh, coming from deep in his chest. Beau just stared at him, straight face.

“I kind of like you, and now I see how you can be friends with her,” The Gentleman ended up saying after his laugh had died down.

“With her?” Beau echoed.

“You see,” The Gentleman subsequently leaned forward, looking directly towards Beau. “Not so long ago, my dear Spiderboo, you had an encounter with one of my people. And you got him in jail for a few days until we bailed him out.”

“I’ve dealt with a few criminals, I mean,” Beau shrugged, “details?”

“An ogre following a very particular blue tiefling,” The Gentleman said.

…

Ah.

“That one?” 

“I just said it, yes?” The Gentleman arched an eyebrow.

“Sure, of course,” Beau cleared her throat. That _might_ have awakened her interest a little bit more despite the exhaustion. “I remember. An ogre, following a blue tiefling—”

“Jester,” The Gentleman interrupted her. Beau shut her mouth. “You can call her by her name, yes? She’s your best friend, after all.”

“Just who exactly are you again?” Beau half-sputtered.

_(But the tingle wasn’t there, not yet.)_

“My employee, Kutha,” The Gentleman continued talking, ignoring Beau’s question, “didn’t intend to do anything illegal or even morally ambiguous. He just wanted to talk to Jester. Although I’m quite sure his manners weren’t the best. But really, he just was supposed to talk to Jester because I told him to do exactly that.”

“What? But I mean, why? What business do you have with Jester?” Beau hadn’t expected the conversation to go that way, not at all. It was _very far_ from what she could have imagined.

_(If she had had a working brain at that moment, of course.)_

“Oh, I just thought it was quite the time for Jester to meet her father.”

…

And yep, that was when Beau.exe stopped working. Finally. Forever. The struggle bus’ driver had just abandoned, once and for all. Goodbye.

...Until her senses kicked her in the butt back to reality.

“Your daughter.”

“Yes.”

“Jester is your daughter.”

“I just said that. Is something that difficult to believe?” The Gentleman massaged the bridge of his nose.

“You were with Jester’s mom,” Beau was getting there, really. She was slowly but steadily getting there. “Jester’s super-famous mom.”

“We were together, yes. A long time ago. But I had to leave before even Jester was born,” The Gentleman confirmed. He was most likely pulling all the patience he had out there. “I knew Marion was pregnant, but—”

“Okay, yeah, stop,” Beau lifted her hands and closed her eyes. “Yep, yep, yep, yep, yep. Yep. Right. Yep. Right.”

“Are you like this all the time?” There was a certain degree of irritation on his tone.

“Nope. I swear. Just today. Bad day. Bad week. Bad life, actually. But like this? Just today,” Beau finally opened her eyes and let down her hands. “So. Okay. Gentleman. Jester’s dad. Got it. What do you want me to do about it?”

“First of all, stop making my employees go to jail just because they are trying to talk to my daughter.”

“Okay. Got it. How do I recognize your employees, though?”

“You just will have to,” The Gentleman simply said nonchalantly. “Trust your gut, I’d say.”

“Right. So, let’s say, if I catch some of your employees robbing a bank, can I—?”

“We don’t rob banks,” The Gentleman interrupted. “But in that hypothetical scenario, as some kids say these days, _‘it’s free real estate’_.”

“Got’cha.”

“But I know your name. And where you live,” The Gentleman added.

_(...Oookay.)_

“...Got’cha.”

“And second of all,” The Gentleman continued. A smile appeared on his lips. “I want Spiderboo to bring my daughter to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo to be honest? I don't know how or when I will update this until the summer. I'm in my last year of university, and I've got four subjects on top of my final project AND I'll have to study Chinese on my own because I blew it this first semester (something I expected Due To A Number Of Factors, None Of Them Are My Fault) aaand the second call is in June. Still! Thinking about all of this is giving me Huge Amounts Of Anxiety as you can imagine. So I don't know! Maybe they won't put that much pressure on me this semester. Maybe they will. My professors aren't relaxing even the slightest, even with the pandemic going on and all.  
> But honestly? I know I always find time to keep writing. And I'm INVESTED in this fic, you can't imagine how much! So even if it takes me a while, you can be sure I'll be back.
> 
> NOW. THE GENTLEMAN. Boy, I wanted to introduce him at some point! I know it differs from the canon, he wanting to actually meet his daughter and tell her "hey, I'm your dad!" but I think this could happen in this context. So there he goes, giving money to Shakaste so he could actually meet Spiderboo in the building under construction (and failing. Because Dairon).
> 
> Fjord has questions! Caleb is dating! Jester knows nothing! Yasha is moving in! Frumpkin is a very good cat! Molly thought Beau and Jester were dating? Oh, you bet he did. 
> 
> I feel this chapter was too short, really, but it was what I had planned if I refer to my plot (disaster) scheme. So, there it goes.
> 
> Also! I'm writing a shadowgast oneshot right now. I intend to publish it before the month ends (though who knows! I surely don't!). Assassins AU? Does that sound cool? It sounds cool to me. We'll see if I don't hate it when I finish it.
> 
> Opinions, feedback, kudos, you know the jazz (I need reassurance and support please I'm Very Small and the world is Hard and Cold). Take care, wash your hands and don't go out without your facemask, my friends. Be safe out there!
> 
> PS: We got to 2000 hits!!! I'm so happy!!! Thank you for reading this bunch of bullshit, from the bottom of my heart!

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave kudos or comments if you're feeling generous. You can also get mad at me at my twitter (same handle as here, ImNotAMarySue) for writing this amount of bullshit and make you read it. I will 100% understand it.


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